I was born in Germany, nearly 49 years ago. My dad was in the service. He flew helicopters. Cool, huh? My dad is my own, personal superhero. He and my mom were young and almost as beautiful as they are today, and they lived a long, long way from home. I’m their first child, so having me when they lived so far from home was more than a notion.
There are some cute pictures of my mom and dad in that first apartment at 8054 Pear Street, waiting for me to arrive. I appreciate those photos more and more as I get older. When I look at my parents in those photos — trying to be grown and not knowing what they were doing, and doing it anyway because what choice did they have? — I just love them with all my heart. In those pictures, they’re young enough to be my children and I find myself wanting to give them advice and warn them about my stubborn streak and how that doesn’t mean I don’t love them.
I was less than two years old when we boarded a ship and made the trip to the US. I haven’t been back to Germany since, and I have no memories of living there. So, H is taking me. If you’re reading this, we’re there. In Germany! And it’s not just H I have to thank.
H is on sabbatical from the church. When the congregation heard I wanted to visit Germany, and H wanted to see some of the historic sites of the church, they made it possible for us to go! We couldn’t do this without them.
I’ll have plenty of stories to tell when I get back to the US. And, I had dreams before I left. You can see some of them here. So tell me. Were you born in the state where you live now? Were you born in a different country? Is there somewhere you’ve always wanted to visit, but have never been?