My Father Is...My Father Was

Dear Readers,
You have not heard from me for a while and I wanted to let you know that I am fine. Or will be in a little while.
Shortly after his 88th birthday, my father suffered a massive stroke. His wife and I have spent the past few days in a hospice by his side in Florida. He passed away peacefully on Sunday.
If you don't mind, I would like to tell you a bit about the man he is...the man he was.

My father was born in Mannheim, 1932 in Germany. He grew up through the horrors and destruction of World War II,  through the lean years that followed. It marked him deeply, made him abhor all military conflict and made him a firm believer in the European Union.
He was proud to have been of the generation that had maintained peace in Europe and tore down borders. Lasting peace, he said, could only be maintained without borders separating people.

Learning and reading were always his escape from the bleakness that was Germany in the 1940s. In the 1950's, he completed his engineering diploma and started working, first at Büssing, and then at Mercedes.

During that time, he was introduced to my mother by a common friend. He asked her hand in marriage two weeks later. He was a man who knew what he wanted.
At the beginning of their life together, they had nothing but his Vespa, a tiny rental apartment and a few pieces of furniture.

Their life became easier in the 1960s, when my father accepted a job at Michelin, the French tire company. In those days, employees were still valued for their loyalty and contribution and at Michelin, there was a real culture of camaraderie amongst the engineers. He embraced the opportunities offered by the company, and remained with Michelin for more than thirty years.

We were living in Karlsruhe in those years, during which he traveled all over Germany. There were also many trips to Clermont-Ferrand, France, where Michelin was based.
In 1970, he was offered a job in Clermont-Ferrand and, without hesitation, moved us there.
Those were probably some of the most interesting years for him. He traveled all over the world, from Australia, to Africa, to the Middle East and North America.
His most remote voyage brought him to the Khyber Pass, at the boarder of Pakistan and Afghanistan.
It was his job to solve problems when huge tires on earth-moving equipment blew out during major infrastructure projects or mining sites.
He never failed to send a postcard with exotic looking stamps back to his family in France.
I still have many of them.

It was during that time that he and my mother bought an old 1866 stone farm house that he renovated little by little whenever he was back with us. That old house is still in the family, and we return to it every summer.

In 1975, Michelin offered to transfer him to their offices in the United States. It was a dream come true for him. Already as a child, he had admired the G.Is who were stationed in his home town. They had given him his first taste of chocolate, cigarettes for his grandfather, and always had an easy smile on their faces.
As a kid with only one old pair of tattered shoes, he once got a hold of a 1940's U.S. Sears Catalog, Here were pages and pages of new shoes to chose from. He was astounded by the choice.
The United States meant endless opportunities to him and he accepted the offer to move us there without having discussed it with my mom.
When he asked her if she would agree to move here, she took one critical look at him and asked:
"You already said 'yes', didn't you?" And, of course, he had.
So started a new chapter in his life, first on Long Island, New York, and then later in Greenville South Carolina.

When my mother passed away in 2003, he was lucky to find love again and spent his last fifteen years with his wife Ursula, traveling, entertaining...and laughing. It was wonderful to see how much fun they had and how they both appreciated each other's company.

My father was interested in many subjects. He continued learning throughout his life. When he did not know something, he asked or researched the subject. He spoke three languages. He was generous and he was the life of many parties. He was not perfect, but the older I became myself, the more I realized that i could learn many things from him.

He loved me and my sister, but was a more patient grandfather to his four grandchildren, which he adored. He considered it one of the greatest gifts to be part of their lives and to nurture the next generation.
In the last three years of his life, he had the great joy of meeting three great-grandchildren and learned that another little one was on the way. He appreciated how special that was.

This past Christmas, he insisted that we should all spend the holidays together. I am happy he did. Perhaps he had a premonition, perhaps he was just realistic at his age. It was the last time we were under one roof as a family.  The memories and the videos taken will have to last us forever.

I learned from my father
-that family is the most important thing in one's life.
-that friendships need to be cultivated, never taken for granted.
-that life needs to be lived to the fullest, to the end.
-that one should say 'yes' to new experiences at any age
-and most importantly, that one should always give from a warm hand.

I will miss him so very much.



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