During and after World War II, both of my father’s sisters were nurses. My Aunt Sigrid, the eldest, six years older than my father, began training as a nurse at the age of 18, in 1931, – the minimum age at the time. At the time my father’s family were
Johann Wolfgang von Goethe once wrote, “Letters are among the most significant memorial a person can leave behind them.” If I can make a judgement from this comment alone, my parents, especially my father, left me a very substantial way to remember them. The tub in the photo only holds
If I could turn back time… I would go back to the time just before I was born. Those couple of months just before the birth of their first, and ultimately only, child when my parents were presumably discussing how they would bring me up. I would try to infiltrate
I am the only child of an only child. I know of several reasons why I have no siblings. I know my father, after his experiences during WWII, decided not to bring any children into a world which could create such misery and destruction. Before he agreed to marry her,
Google “I am hopeless at organising” and a myriad of websites pop up. The first page has links to various sites which help with depression and a lack of organisation. I might need those websites if I don’t manage to find a way to organise the ever growing pile of
After his death, the task of sorting through my father’s possessions was both daunting and confronting. He was quite the hoarder and filled every cupboard, every shelf and every drawer with “things”. Whether it was from need, necessity or compulsion he kept almost everything which made its way into the