Anton

When Anton was twenty, he travelled around the world. He liked to visit France the most. He left wife and children at home. In his homeland, he mostly spent his time in pubs. Beer and cigarettes were more important to him than both his daughters.

When Anton was twenty-two, he got divorced. He did not honour his alimony payments. He drank his money away.

When Anton was twenty-six, he saw his daughters for the last time. His ex-wife forbade him any further contact.

When Anton was fifty-five, he had a friend who managed his money and kept most of it for himself. Outside of his working hours, he was drunk. As long as there was enough money for alcohol and cigarettes, he was content, he said.

When Anton was sixty-one, he stopped drinking. That was the time he got to know Frieda. Anton adored Frieda. Frieda had spent her whole life in a small house in the country and had never been interested in alcohol.

When Anton was sixty-two, he moved in to Frieda’s small house in the country.

When Anton was seventy, he had already shown Frieda Paris and London, Brussels, Berlin and Budapest. He had driven her to her relatives in Dessau and walked all around the neighbourhood with her.

When Anton was seventy-one, Frieda became ill. He drove with her to many doctors and hospitals in the area. Anton said: “You are the best thing that ever happened to me. As long as I live, you will not end up in a nursing home.” He drove her to the welfare centre, to the medical insurance office and to all public authorities.

When Anton was seventy-two, he married Frieda. He ran the house for her, vacuumed, did the shopping and cooked the meals. When Anton was seventy-five, Frieda died. He lived another one-and-a-half years. During this time he drank one glass of champagne a day. “For my circulation”, he said, “because the doctor recommended it to me”.

What God has Joined Together …

This is now many years ago. My grandmother told me the following story. And this story had come about when she herself was young and still lived with her parents. A woman often came to her mother – my great grandmother – and poured her heart out. A neighbour who had many woes. My great grandmother was always there for others. She was a good listener, and she had a deep Christian faith. She often advised others and helped where she could.

This neighbour told her about her marriage. It must have been a terrible marriage. Her husband was often drunk. He hit her, he abused her. The woman was desperate. It occurred to her to get a divorce. A brave decision for a lonely woman in a village in Bavaria about eighty years ago. She shared her thoughts with my great grandmother. The latter advised her against it. “What God hath joined together, let not man put asunder. So hath our Lord spoken.” She should try somehow to make it work with her husband. And so it continued for a while, again and again. Then one day it was said that the woman from the neighbourhood was no longer alive. She had hanged herself.

Roadhouse Talks

The furniture van stopped halfway. We took a break at a rest area. I got out along with the removal men. I was freshly separated from my wife, and was suffering from the parting and loneliness. We spoke about partnership, separation and the resulting house moves. “You know why me and my wife get along so well?” asked the removal man. “Because we hardly ever see each other.”

Clearing Out the Cupboard

I have a large sitting room cupboard. When I moved into my apartment I had carefully cleared it out. Everything had its place. But over the years many things which didn’t belong there – or at least not any more – had found their way to the compartments, shelves and drawers. My life had changed and other things had become important.

Now I cleared out my cupboard. First I took everything out and scattered it on the floor, resulting in a wild chaos – but a chaos that made some kind of sense. All the same, I need time to organise. Some things bring back memories. I have to look at them once again. Others demand a decision. There are things which will be thrown away. There are others which will be kept, not in the cupboard, but somewhere else, for example in the attic. Again others come back into the cupboard, but in another place.

The whole cupboard should be newly organised. But first I will wipe out the cupboard, remove the dust and perhaps also polish it.

My daughter was just here. She looked at the huge chaos and said to me: “I thought you wanted to tidy up?”

Picking Blackberries

As a child I often helped my parents in the garden. I remember how my father instructed me to harvest blackberries. “Take a blackberry in your hand and pull at it a little. Not tightly, only quite lightly. If it is ripe, it will fall easily into your hand by itself. If it doesn’t come off by itself, leave it. That one still tastes sour.”