Thursday 8 March 2012

Nostalgia




I made an old-fashioned kind of phone call today, landline to landline, from England to Germany; it lasted for about three quarters of an hour and will therefore probably be quite expensive.  My eldest cousin, and the one remaining member of my family with whom  I am in touch regularly - and even that only once or twice a year,  - was 79 years old today, and I rang to wish Helga many happy returns of the day.

Nearly all of the call was about getting old and becoming feeble, being less and less able to work around house and garden, and needing outside help. She told me about her ailments and I told her about mine. She told me about her friends getting old and how her once flourishing and active social circle was shrinking and how they now only met for birthdays. She'd even cancelled her own birthday celebration because she just didn't feel up to it. "We can't even meet for dinner", she said, "because cooking  for a group is a problem, and even if we could, most of us can't eat large meals in the evening now." Holidays? Too much effort. Children? Too busy leading their own lives. Friends? In the same boat, getting too old to bother. Outings to restaurants or entertainments? Too expensive, too much effort, too tiring. Might as well stay home, where we're comfortable. To an outsider the whole conversation was one long moan, one long tale of woe about the drawbacks of age. We agreed that everybody wants to get old and nobody wants to be old.


You might say 'what a waste of time and money' this call must have been. How depressing. Far from it, I loved every expensive minute of it. We soon swapped High German for Low German, the language of the local area, instantly transporting me back to childhood and visits to aunts and uncles; to the quiet landscape of the Lower Rhine plains, the marshes, meadows, streams and woods; the wide skies with their racing clouds, punctuated by skeins of wild geese, and the white mists rising and turning willows marching along ditches and brooks into ghostly apparitions. In between talk of arthritic knees, sore backs and fluttering hearts I was reminded of the green days when I sat by her, swooning with admiration and envy, as she dressed up to go out with her latest beau, and afterwards pestered her to tell me what it had been like at the dance.

Being without family is like being without roots. There was a time when not having family meant very little to me. There was a whole big world to explore, there were people to meet and friends to make. Brothers and sisters? Perhaps it would have been pleasant to have them, but as I didn't, I didn't feel that it mattered much. Most of the time I am quite happy with Beloved in my cosy little English backwater, but today, when cousin Helga's voice brought the past back to me, I would have liked to know that there is somebody close who could share my memories.



I'd still say, though, that it was no more than idle curiosity which made me look on the net for flats and houses for sale in my home town. My, they are a lot cheaper than comparative dwellings in the UK.



60 comments:

  1. Your photos added to the powerfully evocative tone of this post. Just has you were transported through the switch in the language you used while speaking with your aunt, you transported me to another time and place through your beautifully written descriptive narrative.

    I understand the importance of cousins and aunts as one ages. Sharing those memories is so important.

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  2. The most astounding part of this post, for me, was the reference to speaking Low German. I had no idea it was still spoken in Germany. My Mennonite grandparents immigrated from the Baltic region of Russia, and they spoke Low German, bringing the language to Canada. I thought it was just a Mennonite thing. My mother grew up speaking High German and my father Low German.

    On another note, it's interesting to watch how my parents have become more connected to their brothers and sisters since we, their children, have grown and are busy with families of our own. Can it be that as we age we turn to those of our own cohort once again, looking for those who understand our stage of life and who share common childhood memories?

    I'm so glad your conversation with your cousin brought you joy. And I hope you continue to feel better.

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  3. i am glad you made the phone call...sounds like it was good for you...and i know what you are saying about family too...

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  4. I think, at a certain point, the social lives and circles of youth do become too much to sustain because needs shift as we age and change. Still, though, so long as we have a handful or intimates with whom we touch on a regular, no matter how frequent or infrequent, basis, that need for the parts of our identity which spring from connection is at least partially satisfied. There is as much loneliness in too much social activity as there is in too little.

    As I am fond of believing, it really is the quality and not the quantity. I am very glad you thoroughly relished your phone call.

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  5. I think you hit it when you said "someone to share my memories." That's the key. Since the death of my cousin with whom I spent most of my childhood, there is no one who has the same memories as I. Now my memories go back only 45 years to meeting and marrying. But those memories are precious. Jim

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  6. How wonderful for you to have that conversation, Friko, and also for your cousin. I'm so happy for you. Family means a lot to me.
    K

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  7. I'm glad you got to speak your mother tongue. It must have taken you right back to Germany in a heartbeat. Nothing beats remembering good times in childhood - the world is so full of possibilities, and the aches and pains so far away. My father just turned 79 and my mother 78. They have twice turned down my invitation to come over for birthday cake, even though I've coaxed the adult grandchildren into coming too. Maybe they just don't feel like it? I hadn't thought about that possibility, but now you've made me consider it.
    Hmmm...

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  8. What a heartwarming post, Friko. We call those minutes of talking about our ailments an "organ recital." We're still young enough to have very few problems, but expect to have more as time goes on. We hope to keep our sense of humor til our last day though. When that's gone, the end will be near. I'm so glad you connected with your cousin. I could do the same, but something keeps me from doing so. You give me encouragement with your posts.
    Thank you.

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  9. Those pictures lend such an atmosphere to this memory filled post. Made me a little homesick.

    My BFF (70) and I (60) have phone conversations about our ailments sometimes, too--LOL! It's nice to have somebody who understands and doesn't judge. ;)

    Have a great weekend!

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  10. so true ,so true
    someone who remembers what we remember
    wonderful post..enjoyed your happiness

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  11. This is such a touching post, Friko. Its impact illustrates so much most of us have experienced in one way or another. But the sentence "Being without family is like being without roots" made me gasp. As I write my posts about my great-great grandparents who emigrated to the US from their village in Germany, I understand why so many of us in this country have a feeling of being a bit adrift and why the German relatives I've met, so distant, had such a sense of fulfillment when the roots finally reconnected. But how did the great-greats feel for the rest of their lives as strangers in a strange land.

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  12. Friko, you certainly gave your relative a wonderful birthday gift. Thank you for being also generous in sharing your thoughts with us.

    xo

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  13. I enjoy my weekly conversations with my Mom for much the same reason. Recently, my mention of Schaumtorten in a post set off memories for us both of the competition between Grandpa Scheid and his friend Cliff over who had the stronger wrist flicking capability: Grandpa, whipping eggs by hand for Schaumtorten, or Cliff, whipping eggs for his angel food cake. But this was the best of all. Mom then thought further, why did this stand out in her memory so much? Then she realized: in those days, the men in the family never cooked, and here were two men in the family competing on their kitchen skills! The memory of that call, in which she told me that, is now a precious memory for me.

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  14. There is nothing in the world like family! They are more precious than gold.

    I am sorry I just saw the questions you asked me in a previous post about Afib. I had no shot when I was first admitted to the hospital with Afib. I was immediately hooked up to an IV which may have contained what you are referring too. I went into Afib during one of my stress tests too.

    I hope you are feeling much better.

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  15. Home seems to call out, to bring us back, and Life comes full circle. I am feeling a bit excited for you just at thought of this possibility.

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  16. A wonderful post, perfectly illustrated. And oh how I know the feelings you so eloquently describe.

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  17. Beautiful post!!! I can really empathize with your friend.

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  18. Beautiful, touching, relevant. I am so fortunate to still have my mother and three siblings as well as 5 cousins and nieces and nephews. They are all important to me and one of the great things about Facebook is that being so far away I have been able to keep in touch now throughout the year. Your pictures in the mists of time are so evocative of the feeling I have living so far from where all my old memories are and of where I grew up. Hope you are continuing to be on the mend and thank you for the beautiful post.

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  19. It is comforting to read your musings about your departed family and your one remaining cousin. And the land of your childhood.

    My daughter's husband was born in the US but his dad was German and worked for a large German company-- the family moved to Germany when SIL was a toddler. returning to the US after a stint in South America.My SIL speaks fluent German and flawless English. My daughter, her husband ,the two children have visited SIL's dad in a small resort town near Munich.( His Dad died last year so his German connection is no more.)
    I am glad the grandchildren got to experience some of Germany with their "Opa"

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  20. I had lunch with a friend of 38 years yesterday. We met as young brides, and now we're grandmothers. Even though we meet infrequently - every five years or so - we enjoy our visits and the link they are to when we were young and lovely! Your post today was full of the feeling I have about these visits. There is no one place that calls me as the Rhineland calls you - too many places have been home - but a conversation or visit with an old friend or cousin disturbs me and soothes me in a way that only someone who 'gets it' understands.

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  21. Hello Friko:
    How wonderfully you evoke the German countryside in this post as well as moments from the past shared with family and friends. We do so well understand the trials and tribulations of becoming older as outlined by Helga but, like you, we do recognize the importance of putting a positive slant on things and by doing so continue to enjoy life as it now is.

    Jó hétvégét!

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  22. Nostalgia is powerful, isn't it. One of my friends says he does not do nostalgia. I quite enjoy those trips down memory lane; I had a wonderful childhood and I am happy to have both my parents and my sister live within 10 minutes walking distance, and still live in the same town where I was born. This place here gives me a true sense of belonging, and although I love travelling and feel very much at home with my family in Yorkshire (from my husband's side), home is irreplaceable to me.

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  23. What beautiful pictures, Friko. Are they ones you took yourself?
    I don't have any roots, since we travelled a lot when I was a kid. Our family home in South London was sold a few years ago (it was the house my grandmother shared with her sisters) but the area had gone down in the world and was quite different so I didn't want to live there any more.

    Why did you leave Germany? It would be wonderful if you could buy a little apartment in your home area and commute between your two lives, because recent life is important too in forming roots.....

    Hope you're feeling better now.

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  24. Family is so important...they know our stories and we know theirs. What a blessing to have had this conversation. I miss my family and this made me remember them and times past.
    Thanks
    Hugs
    SueAnn

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  25. We agreed that everybody wants to get old and nobody wants to be old.
    now there's the nugget!

    Glad you are feeling better.

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  26. Nostalgia. An apt title for a beautifully written post. It almost forgave the rather tragic undertone of the blighter we call age.

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  27. Terrific and very apt photos, Friko.

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  28. Of fluttering hearts... A song has been running through my head for a day or so. A song made popular by recently deceased American pop artist Etta James,
    At Last, my love has come along
    my lonely nights are over
    and life is like a song...

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  29. I have not yet reached the point of wishing to hear my cousins' voices. I wonder if ever I shall . . . they weren't ever very nice to me as Helga was to you.
    But I do wonder what I'll do for social contact if I ever get to retire from my job.
    Your photos are quite appropriate for the misty memory mood here.

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  30. Sounds like a call well worth it.

    Glad to hear you are starting to feel better.

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  31. Those photos are terrific. Like works of art and complete the mood of the piece perfectly. We are have those nostalgic feelings because we only remember the best of it, not the boring or the sad. If we remember the sad it is with cotton batting all around us. That call will give her much energy for days to come.

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  32. There's nothing quite like reminiscing with someone who knew you when you were young, who shares the same memories, who lived in the same space. Helga is probably as delighted as you seem to be that you called. Funny how some of us can be born in a place and find another that seems more like home, while some of us never lose our intense attachment to the place where we came from.

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  33. That gorgeous line of trees reminded me instantly of Germany. Those first two images really enchant. As another only child with parents passed and no family left I can relate to what you express here. Take no options off the table.

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  34. Wow, 79 is too young to feel that way. She sounds very depressed. My mother is 96. I hope to lead an active life til I reach her age.

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  35. One of our writers Tom Wolfe wrote, "You can't go home again." It never really is the same.

    I never had a home, so where I live now is my home.

    As for kids, they have their own lives for sure.

    I do stay in touch with one or two cousins. All the Aunts and Uncles and grandparents are gone.

    Dianne

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  36. A truly beautiful and evocative post, Friko, with some lines that will stay with me for a long time. Remembering the Plattdeutsch I used to hear in Hamburg, I can easily imagine you and Helga gratefully slipping back into the language of your childhood. I have sisters, but no cousins and we are the senior generation now.

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  37. One precious cousin and I have our hearts open to each other. How very important that is.
    XO
    WWW

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  38. What a lovely post. I don't see my sister and brothers often but we do talk on the phone. Our visits seem to always go back to remembering our childhoods and I love it. So many memories.
    The tree photos are beautiful.

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  39. You second picture is amazing, it has something special with the water, fog and yellow brown shine of the light dimming.

    Greetings,
    Filip

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  40. I think, like Frances has just said - your phone call was the best present you or anyone could give Helga. Love your pictures.

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  41. Interesting how as we age those old connections seem to become more important. That's a great thing about the internet ... and email, and facebook, and blogging. They all help us stay in touch with old friends and relatives from our younger years.

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  42. This was a lovely nostalgic post Friko. I understand that it is nice to talk to a cousin in our first language. Just like you I have a second cousin in France and I talk to her, in French, on the telephone about 3 times a year. It is not easy to live in another country, another culture where people do not speak your language and may mis-understand or mis-interpret you sometimes. I am lucky in a way to be from Paris because I can find many blogs showing photos of my town and talking about it. It is easy to be isolated as we get older. Your pictures of the Niederrhein and of Kevelaer are truly beautiful with a great atmosphere.

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  43. Oh, my dear, I know. I know. I'm another only child living far from what remains of family; cruising the net for home prices near loved ones has become a bigger priority recently than even keeping up with my blogland family. Especially when we lose another of those few of us left, as we did in February. You say it better than I, but you speak for me, too.

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  44. These misty photos speak of past memories. Getting old is better than the alternative, but does take some strength of character! Hope you're feeling much better.

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  45. Such a beautiful, evocative post. As an only child with only an aunt and three cousins left, it can be a little distressing to think of being aged, with no one to care for me as I did for my mother. Still, there's nothing to be done about it but keep living - with fingers crossed for good luck, perhaps!

    One of my best friends moved from Staffordshire to Wales, and we talk monthly - there's nothing like a good phone call. Somehow I got an international calling plan that lets me talk an hour for less than $5 - the price of a fancy coffee. Modern life can be miraculous.

    I'm certainly glad you seem to be feeling better and are moving back into life.

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  46. It's always very comfortable to settle , temporarilly , back into "clan" life . Memories , place names , a shared language and sayings . I don't think I could do it all the time , any more that the rest of the ( very ) extended family , but it's lovely when we do .

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  47. Hi Friko .. isn't that great .. having that conversation with your cousin - they make the world of difference. If we didn't moan and groan, then laugh - life wouldn't be the same.

    Wonderful reading your child's overview of life back then - it looks a glorious landscape .. but our little backwaters do too.

    Great that Beloved is there to share it with you .. happy days ahead .. at least we're comfortable in our existence ..

    Cheers and hope Benjy and you are enjoying the odd walk about .. now the weather's better .. Hilary

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  48. My 91-year-old mother lives almost alone in the daytime. Her daughter-in-law living upstairs is a nice and kind person, however, my mother likes to talk with me very much because we share lots of memories of the times gone by. Getting very very old would be a lonesome journey being outlived by her spouse, siblings, son, and friends. I let her talk as much as she want and I’m quite satisfied with my role as a sympathetic or friendly ear. I can relate to the third paragraph. When I talk with my childhood friend in the local dialect, I feel the childhood was just like yesterday with the nostalgic scenes unfolding before my eyes. I like your photos, the paths hedged by the trees. Thank you for this touching post, Friko, you made me nostalgic.

    Yoko

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  49. You make even a phone call so special, and your thoughts on getting older resonate with my own - especially in this pre-spring, damp month.

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  50. I know just what you mean about family and about having someone who shares the same memories. Ah.

    A lovely post beautifully illustrated.

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  51. What a moving and heart-warming post, Friko. It's so true that, however we find each other, there's nothing like a good conversation with someone who shares many of our childhood memories and experiences. Whatever that phone call cost, it's worth it!

    My cousin Caron will be 72 in May and is very poor health and her world is narrowing considerably as a result. I still love talking with her both because I love who she is and because we because we share so many lovely memories. I also treasure talks with my brother and sister because no one else in my life has the unique understanding of the painful as well as joyful memories of our immediate family as they do.
    As time goes by, family ties matter even more than they did when we were younger.

    I'm so glad you had such a good talk in your native tongue. Are you thinking of a second home so you can really re-visit your roots and your family?

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  52. I don't think there is anything - ever - that compares to family. They are the only ones who know exactly from where it is we've come. Wonderful that you got to catch up with your cousin and feel her closeness!!

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  53. A friendly, loving voice sure can narrow the miles between, and bridge the gap between your present and your past. So true that it's better to get old.. just not to be it.

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  54. i hadn't talked with my brother in too long and we had a nice long conversation on the phone last night. he is in chicago. i am in los angeles. our version of a long phone call is 20 minutes. but it felt good to talk about transitioning to the next phase of life with kin who is with me on the journey.
    just idle curiosity? okay:)

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  55. This post perfectly captures a beautiful melancholy--how gorgeous to have something so special in your life that you get to miss it so.

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  56. I'm sure she felt a lot cheerier just because you listened to her.

    I must say your photos are breathtaking!

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  57. Connecting with those who know you best, who know where you come from is very precious. It is the very thing that makes living worthwhile. Yes, it was an expensive call. But clearly norusihing for both of you.

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  58. This makes me chuckle when you say it sounds depressing but wasn't! This sounds much like calls with my cousin David in Ohio. He has back issues that are so very painful, surgeries and all that. I have my perpetual lung infections and disease, bones that don't move like they used to -- we're a pair, too -- and yet we always end up feeling better for the call!

    I think you and I are at some similar spots, though I'm not contending with the moving options -- when I bought my house in my 40s, I decided it would be a one floor, walkable (though a bit of a hike) to a store, near the bus -- just in case. When I had my shoulder surgery a couple of years ago, I was glad. Only five minutes from the village is good for you! And it's incredibly beautiful -- in each picture, I have a pang of envy!

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  59. ... I must say, you have a wonderful way with words. You are taking a writing class? If you wrote like this before, you don't need them!

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  60. ...and your photographs are lovely!

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