Postcard from Germany

Today I wish I could send you an email.

I’d tell you about my single bed hotel room in the middle of the German countryside named ‘Sausage’ (Vorst). I had to stop and ask a gas station attendant, bar owner and carry out guy how to find the place, but I found it. It was dark and raining and I felt completely hopeless more than once, but I found this place the good old fashioned way – with a printed map, stopping to ask and lots of gesticulating. It was harrowing. I thought I’d have to drive back home, but would not even know how to do that.

We would laugh because this room I am now so grateful to have found is still larger and nicer than that room we shared in Berlin. I felt so bad making you stay there. Now I’d give almost anything to have that day back.

E stops and points at your picture and calls you Grandpa. It is all I can do not to cry. It has been over six months. When are you coming back?


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