say nein to sleeping

Today (or yesterday, I should say, its nearing 3 here) was one of the most moving, impacting day of my life. I literally felt my life take a curve, a bend in the road- but it was a graceful turn, one taken naturally, as though on a German bicycle being guided by the wind and picture perfect (literally) clouds, following the path's gentle, but meaningful, turn in the road.

It did not slip my attention- the significance of the rain stopping today, our last day here, the day I was going to (and did) spread my Nanas ashes. The wind farms took on new meaning (wheel in the sky keeps on turning) and the weather was spectacular.

We started picking up a lot more deutsche today, and there have been more and more times where I have felt proud of myself, or of Kellen, for our little successful attempts at communications- we have moved beyond the "guten tag" and "vas es das?" stage ! I decided today that if I give in to the L word (loan. ugh, that word) and put myself through school, I will most definitely take a German class. I love this language- anyone who denies it is a romance language hasn't stayed in a town like Debinghausen, and experienced the true essence of Germany.

Last night, I woke up suddenly to a surprisingly loud buzzing in my ear. After freaking out and swatting myself, I hid under the covers and tried to stay still...then I realized how ridiculous it was to hide from a mosquito. Flashback: me, ten years ago, sleeping in the same room, in the same bed with my sister...waking up to the same noise, spazzing out in the exact same manner. Only now, I couldnt run to get my mutti and complain of the weird mosquito that wouldnt leave me alone and stop buzzing by my ear, even when i hid under the covers. I remember turning onthe lights, not finding anything, then turning them off and getting in bed again, only to hear it once more. This time, I ignored it, and it left me alone...yes, I was under the covers...but it took me awhile to fall back asleep, and I couldnt stop itching. (totally psychological)

Yesterday, Verena took us to the up the path on the hill, leading to the forest where she used to take me and my cousin when we were little, and where she took her sons sledding all the time in the winter when they were still young enough to enjoy such things (hell, I would do it now... who needs snow or sleds- anyone have a laundry basket?) We used to pick blueberries on tha path- right around the time it started giving me deja vu, she asked me if I remembered it- and it all came rushing back. The pinecones, the bushes overflowing with blueberries (not in season now, too bad)...some of my favorite childhood memories have been relived these past few days, I can't possibly explain how it feels. The forest was unimaginably phenomenal- miles and miles of trees that stand like tall, thin yet stately armies. In Kellen's blog, she described them as "looking like they have been holding hands for decades"...I think that is the best way one would possibly describe them, and their beauty and power. We explored them a little,interacted with them and recorded them. Just like I predicted, as the sun rays sifted through them, painting the ground with moving, incandescent beds of light...as I walked through the soft, moist years of built up moss, I gave some of myself to them, and it will remain entrenched there for all time.

After sarching out the right place, I found a spot that was more green and full of life than its surroundings, where one lone purple flower grew, strong, courageous, distinct, sublime. The trees formed a shelter high above this spot, but allowed light to fill it as well- patterns of shade and light on the lush green . It was near a greenhouse and beautiful little garden where Nana used to love to visit every time she was in Germany. I knelt down and gave her back to her home, to the flowers and ground and wind, to the trees. Later, me and Kellen got on the bikes again...today was a much better day to ride, couldn't have asked for better weather. We were going to go to the playground for pictures, but my camera battery died (again), so instead we took a random path we found that looked good for exploring on two wheels (or 4.)
I think it was meant to be- because we found some gorgeous fields, a living picture of Germany under a spread of blue skies...and I gave more of Nana back to the earth, to the country and town that gave her more pleasure than anywhere on earth. It was a beautiful celebration of her life, not a mourning, and I am so glad Kellen was able to share it with me and record it for me to remember always. I will never forget one detail of those moments...the brush of the tall grass as I went deep into it, spreading her into the breeze, the sun beaming down an undescribable warmth, an approval, the feel of her bones against my skin as I allowed the breeze to guide her home, to give her life- a sublime story- the perfect ending, and give birth to new life inside and all around me. It was not weird, or gross, to feel her remains...I was beyond proud, and content, and I clutched my hand close to my heart when I was finished, to warm what remained of the dust. Today, before I leave, I will finish with the last in the backyard of this amazing place she adored.
Rest in peace Nana- you are back where you belong (vilkommen back). Ich liebe dich, you live within me always.

Once again, we were taken in, by everyone in the neighborhood- to be a part of the celebrations they share. The traditions, as I mentioned before- they are so utterly inspiring.

Simone, my cousin's fiance, turned 25 a few weeks ago- and her and Stephan's house is decorated with empty cigarette boxes strung all over their yard and the outside of the house like Christmas lights or streamers. It is the tradition here for unmarried girls on their 25th birthday. Apparently, for guys, they do socks insetad of cigarette boxes. I love it! Until today, we didnt notice the thin, white tree leaning at an angle by the entrance of my other cousin, Basti, and his girlfirend Nadine's front door -they live in a loft above Verena's house. Trees are chopped down by all the boys in the town and placed by the front door of unmarried girls the first of May every year. Today we celebrated my family's neighbors 25th, silver, anniversary. On the silver anniversary, the neighborhood men gather an evergreen spruce and chop it into pieces to make an archway to put around the front door of the couple who is celebrating. The women buy yellow flowers and silver ribbon to decorate the arch with, and each one makes a special flower to put on it. They do a similar thing for the 5oth anniversary, but I believe it is with silver flowers with gold embellishments, and there are 50 instead of 25. All day, while we were celebrating, the teenage boys brought around Becks lemon beer (basically like German Miller Chill) and me and Kellen's favorite, Barre. As for the shots... vodka with a toothpicked-cherry in it (nein, not a chaser- you eat it before the shot, I guess to pad the blow?), a purple liquid... "plum kind, yes?," a greek liquor that I mentioned before, the one that tastes like licorice, and something that was green and absoltely delicious. Yes... germans can drink anyone under a table, but as Kellen put it, and I have said before.. its a different kind of drinking, a fantastic celebration of life and love.
It was superb, and there was plenty of laughter and joy to be had all around.

Kellen and I finished off the spectacular day by hopping an electric fence to chase longhorn. What can I say...sometimes the only way to vent the happiness in your heart and the liquor in your veins is to...well, run around a field wildly, scaring the hell out poor horned creatures.
(Good thing they weren't bulls, that's all I have to say.)

I will miss this place immesely.

On to München!