Farewell in Neumünster 5 August 2024
Today it's hard for me to write. Not because there's nothing to tell - quite the opposite. But because I still need to process what these past days have stirred in me.
Mom didn't really feel comfortable in Denmark. As much as I had hoped she might find a little piece of home here - it wasn't meant to be. "You don't transplant an old tree," they say. And yes, I think I truly understand that saying now.
Of course she tried her best. She found our house beautiful, enjoyed our time together, was curious and open to what she could discover here. But that feeling of familiarity, of security, of home - she couldn't find that here. She missed her accustomed life, her apartment, her routines, her surroundings. And no matter how hard we tried to make her stay pleasant, it was simply too much change for her.
So we accepted her wish to travel back to Germany. It wasn't an easy decision - for anyone. But it was the right one.
Since my vacation ends in two days and school starts again, I couldn't accompany her the whole way. So we decided to let her travel by train alone - as comfortably and safely as possible. To make it easier for her, we drove with her in our little blue Fiat Cabrio all the way to Neumünster. The weather was glorious, the roads clear, and there was a quiet understanding in the air.
At the station we still had just under an hour. Time for one last conversation, for quiet glances, for a smile that says more than many words. It was a quiet farewell. Not dramatic. But one that lingers.
I hope she arrives safely. And that she feels - back in her familiar surroundings - secure and at home again.
Here remains a quiet place in my heart for this summer, for everything that was - and also for what couldn't be.
Sometimes technology can help lighten the heart a little.
After Mom decided to return to Germany, we wanted to make her train journey as pleasant as possible. We booked her a window seat at the end of a compartment - close to the restroom so she'd be comfortable on the long journey. And we put a small AirTag in her wallet - not to control her, but for peace of mind. For her. And for us.
Mom was pleased about it. It gave her a sense of security, knowing that if she should lose something on the way - her wallet or her bearings - we could help. And for us it was nice to simply check on our phones now and then: Ah, now she's in Hamburg, now in Hannover - everything's going as planned.
We arrived at our destinations almost at the same time: she in Karlsruhe, where her cousin warmly welcomed her and brought her safely home. And we - back to our everyday life here in Denmark. An arrival on both sides.
We've already talked on the phone. She's glad to be home again - in her familiar surroundings, with her things, her sounds, her rhythm. Of course she's tired - such a travel day takes its toll. But she sounded content. And that's what matters most.
I'm grateful that she was here. That she got to know our life here to some extent - our home, our friends, our routines. Now when we call, she knows exactly what I'm talking about. She has a picture in her mind when I talk about the garden or the village shop, the sea or one of our afternoons with friends.
Even though this visit wasn't permanent - it was important. For her. And for me.
