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I was one of those kids who was quiet and well behaved. Always did what I was told… (sigh). Probably cause I was outnumbered by adults. I grew up in a family setting, which consisted of my mothers parents, my mother and me.
One of those "Baby Boomers” who was born in Germany two years after WWII ended. I was born “out of wedlock”. Which was considered, a terrible crime for a woman to bear back then. As a matter of fact, my identification was stamped as “illegitimate”. Probably one of the reasons my mother chose to immigrate to the US in 1957. She knew that social customs, were less rigorous here.
As it was, I was born in “Pommern”, which had been a part of Germany, until the war ended and the joint forces split up Germany (into East and West Germany). Then it fell under the rule of a Communistic Government. (While we were attempting to flee to what was to become the West Zone, of Germany… i.e. the “free” zone)
My grandmother, mother and I were alone together. The men in the family had been off carrying out their duty to their country. They had been in the service and were off, who knows where?! The women had been left behind at home. Which in our case, had been Berlin, Germany.
When that city was bombarded and destroyed, my family fled to the countryside. Areas near where my grandmother had grown up. At least there was a chance of getting some food and shelter there; and the countryside was not targeted by enemy planes. After all, there was nothing there to destroy, except for some farms and livestock.
My mother always used to say; “I’ll be all right, as long as I have, at least some potatoes to eat!” Yes, I grew up actually knowing what hunger was. Mom didn’t just tell me that “children were starving in poorer parts of the world”. I grew up with stories of “the times we almost starved to death”. So I really was grateful for having the food on my plate!
We were fortunate and made it out to the Western Zone. Near Goslar am Harz. Which was really just a “hop skip and a jump” over the border. We were eventually reunited with the men of the family and as time went by, the rest of the family members (of the extended family) who had made it through the war alive.
There was lots of “temporary” housing. I remember visiting some of our family, who lived in Hamburg. They were living in a Quonset Hut village. Someone recently said to me; “That must have been awful!”. Well, no, not really. I remember how happy everyone was. How they had planted flowers all around the huts. And everyone was grateful to be alive, have housing of some sort, and enough food to eat. Everything was kept clean and neat, and above all *appreciated*!
Anyway, there were routines. What else was there to do? Take a trip to Disney World? Ermm … no!
So, I like being able to do whatever I please when I feel like it. It makes me happy to be able to do that. Have also learned to relax, and not feel guilty about it, as I’ve grown older. After all, what is life? An experience that turns out to be all too short, and will end some day.
Enjoy yours! :)
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Where did these thoughts come from? Oh well, from reading other people’s blogs, like my friend Herman, Melissa, and Rivergirl.
Either 360 friends or Mash friends… I’ve met quite a few really cool 360 bloggers, through my excursions over at Mash! (big smile)
