'This could be the last time....'

'This could be the last time' a song is playing inside. This could be the last meeting with my Old Mom, this could be the last letter, this could be the last car, the last food, this could be the very last breath!

With this sad feeling Mima drives me home in her Sea Cow from Dortmunnd to Munich. In Dortmund I have lived for six years from 1960 to 1966. My brother lives there since that time. My brother got there his wife, his two sons, his house, his job as teacher. Now my Old Mom lives in Dortmund again in a new renovated home with two other dement patients. More will come soon.

meeting with my Old Mom

Dortmund is one of the old industrial towns, where once coal and steel have been produced. In the neighbour town Bochum Nokia has produced cell phones for the last years. Now Nokia has cancelled the production in Bochum and produces cell phones in Rumania. More than 2000 people have lost their jobs.

Young people without future paint the walls with graffiti. Most cars in the streets are older than the cars in Munich. The wind plays with the garbage in the street. 

Young people without future paint the walls with graffiti. 

Tomorrow on Sunday one of the highest houses in Dortmund City will be blown up. Once an insurance company has built this sky scraper. Now the only 20 years old building isn't of any use anymore.

Old Mom lives in house where doors are closed. A year ago in this house smart young people sold shareholder value papers. This money making machine doesn't work anymore. 

Today old people rent these rooms with professional help around the clock. 

Today old people rent these rooms

But my huge helplessness turns all feelings so sad, like the song sounds inside: 'This could be the last time....'

My Old Mom had no breakfast, no lunch. The nurse is in troubles and asks for a doctor. My Old Mom doesn't want a doctor and wants to rest in her bed only.

It's hard to stand these feelings of helplessness without activity. My brother gets angry, that the nurse in the home wants to get a doctor for Old Mom in case of emergency. Who can admit to be sick? Who can ask for professional help? It hurts to be sick and helpless.

This could be the last time....'

My body has health problems too. So we leave Dortmund in the afternoon. Mima drives three, four hours. A beautiful sunset gives us peace. The dirty, old industrial city Dortmund filled with graffiti and garbage is left behind. 

We come in the soft hilly part of Germany: Bavaria. The industrial centres around Dortmund produce two parts of the electric energy for Germany. Bavaria produces the luxurious cars BMW and Audi. We reach Bad Brueggenau at the evening. My brother calls me up: ‘'The doctor had to visit our Old Mom. Her sickness is ‘herpes zoster’ (Gürtelrose).''

We stop our voyage in Bad Brueggenau. There we relax in a sauna and thermal bath. We sleep long, calm hours in Mima's Sea Cow in front of the bath, leave early in the morning for Bamberg. Mima has work to do in her garage for her next Christmas Market 2008. We meet her old father, her sister and her brother in Bamberg.

Mima's 'Blue Whale' from 1996 to 2006 years
 and her 'Sea Cow' now

For Mima these social activities are much easier than for me. Letters in this newsgroup have more an anonymous touch or molest most readers with an aggressive self advertising. The books of OZAY and RASA are such examples to catch customers in a loud shouting campaign.

Although my friend Thomas in Hamburg is closer connected with many calls, everybody fights very alone for his life.

The strange experience in those years: it seems to be easy to advice other people how to live. But it is very hard to live clean and let the work be seen.

And most people love to be left alone without the word works of self advertising book sellers like from OZAY and RASA. The poems of Anabebe (Anna Ruiz) have been a joy to read compared with these tons of mind molesting materials from OZAY and RASA. At least that's the way my feelings taste them.

The last question, before this mind molesting torture ends, the last question: 'what worth these words?'

My value to write is, to bring some structure in my mixed up mind. My next value to write is, to entertain myself in the boring hours on the high ways, we have travelled again and again.

We do it for our parents, my mother, Mima's father, sister and brother. The one and only goal in life seems to be: earn your easy death. ‘This could be the last time….’

Michael Munich Kabir had birthday these days...‘This could be the last time….’

The books of OZAY

and RASA