My Mother and the Big Brown Bear

New week work. Dreams on my desktop about freedom and friends. Worldwide and at home. Reality is different. Hans risks his right to read under Kabirís control. To loose one thing gives experience to another. Back to my week end report with a new Sunday SPAM session - when there is anything ever new!

Once again Mima and I went on the 1600 Kilometres journey to visit father and mother, my mother, her father.

We leave Munich on Thursday, when my boring job is done. We reach the thermal bath Kissingen in the evening. My body rests and relaxes in the warm water.

Friday morning we have finished the nearly 700 Kilometres journey to Dortmund. In this industrial dirty poor town we find my old mother in her comfortable chair. Her questions are always the same: 'From where do you come?'

It takes much energy to walk and to be an hour with my old mother. It is difficult to talk with my old mother. We are happy, when she recognises us and remembers our names.



my old mother in her comfortable chair




The cold rainy weather in the dirty old town Dortmund is hard to stand.
I finished there my school in the year 1966.
With surprise I see this school again.
The building is painted with graffiti.
The streets are filled with garbage.
Most cars are old, damaged and dirty.


Friday afternoon my brother, his wife, Mima, mother and I have cake and coffee together. The following Saturday we plan a visit to my mother's sister. She is three years younger than my 87 years old mother.

Next day the old women meet.



Next day the old women meet.


Mother lets her tears flow down. She holds a big teddy bear in her arm and complains with a tender voice: 'You have all and everything. I have nothing anymore. I can be glad, when I am still alive.'

I think: 'Old mother had to grow in her old age of 87 years to feel so lost and helpless!'

Watching myself I feel so tired to continue my useless quarrels with each and everyone. I feel so stupid with my awful judgements about each and everyone.

Last long mail on Thursday my mocking words have attacked my friend Hans from Amsterdam. Thankfully I read on the road in an Internet point, that Hans finds it worth again to play with the soap bubbles of my molesting mind.

Friends are the ones, who stay together with cruel craziness. These connections are not easy. But silence is a dead way walk into isolation. Mind quarrels are another dead road into isolation.





Friends are the ones, who stay together


My old Mom hugs the big brown bear and complains with tears:

 'You have all and everything. I have nothing anymore. I can be glad, when I am still alive.'

What has my old mother missed, that now these bitter words come at the end?

I remember Mima's 97 years old friend Leni. She was a poor woman and has asked many times:

'When will G*D take me back again? I'm much too old. Most of my friends are at home in heavens. When will G*D take me home too? I have lived enough.'

My 85 years old aunt ends our visit with the words:

'When all would go on like it is now, I would be happy!'

Unbelieving I listen to her hallucinations. I can't resist answering:

'How can everything be like it is? We get older each day, and it's hard to imagine, that we remain the same we are now.'



My old Mom hugs the big brown bear




After Sunny Sunday lunch in Bamberg with Mima and her father
we return in Munich very tired in the evening.

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