I Miss Germany...A Lot!

One of the things (and there are so many) that I miss about living in Germany, especially this time of year, were our (almost daily) trips to Luisen Park. This park was in the center of Mannheim, and covered a huge amount of space (101 acres to be exact). The park contained so much for us to do, that we could never fit it all in one day, although we did try! There were all the typical things one would find in a park, which included the trees (many varieties), flowers and shrubs, and dozens of walkways to stroll.

Of course, what would a park be without playground equipment to entertain the little ones? And this park had a diverse selection to choose from, no matter your age or what you felt like doing on any day. There were typical slides and swings, to castles whose walls you could scale to save the damsel in distress. And heights were not a concern for the Germans. However, I had a problem watching my two year old climb at least 25 feet in the air. But he did it, and quite well. They both did. There were dry playgrounds and those that had enough water to keep you wet and happy on the hottest of days! (And bathing suits were not required for those under 5). My kids would hear we were going to the park and would strip down to bare skin within seconds flat!

There was also all kinds of wild life which included the following: birds, turtles, fish, alligators (yes those too), and even an area that housed farm animals. The kids had it all. And of course, what is a park without food? So we could dine on bratwurst and follow it with ice cream. And if you got tired and wanted to just sit, you could do so in small boats that pulled you around the interior of the park, so you could watch wild life in its natural habitat. I prefered watching the Germans in their natural habitat. =)

Every June, the park would have its celebration of the beginning of summer by hosting its “Sommer Nacht Festival.” There would be tons of food, bands, vendors selling their wares, and the night would end with an incredible display of fireworks; nothing I have yet to find here in America that even compares (except maybe the ones in NYC on the 4th of July). I miss this extravagant kick off to summer. I miss strolling the park and watching the kids play for hours with their German peers. I miss Germany. I miss the simpler times.

Holocaust Rememberance Day

There are a few places I remember visiting very vividly when living abroad, and the Dachau Concentration Camp was one of them. Jim and I visited what remained of the camp on a bleak and rainy day in 1985. I can remember my first reaction as I walked through the gates (like so many millions before me) that read “Arbeit Macht Frei” (work makes you free). I learned about the concentration camps like the rest of us through school, but I remember thinking as I walked around, “Wow, this really happened.” In my head, I knew it had, but the feeling of reality was just so overwhelming.

Many of the pre-existing buildings were gone, but models remained to depict how the people lived there (live is loose term). What I committed to memory were the crematoriums. When we entered the buildings that housed those ovens, I saw tiny candles lit, each one placed by people who had come before us. There was a box of candles provided so that we, too, could light a candle. I remember lighting the candle and setting it among long stem roses that had been left behind as well.

It was at that moment that I found myself feeling the loss of those millions of people that had died during the holocaust. Nothing else the entire day had affected me as strongly as that very moment. I remember feeling overwhelmed. My eyes watered, and I didn’t want to move forward. But we did continue our walk around, taking in all we could. The emotions I felt, we felt, are hard to put into words.

When we had seen the entire camp, we headed back toward the main gate, and as we did, I turned around and walked backwards, soaking in every image that I could before I finally had to leave. I reached the gate and, putting my hand on it, I stopped. And then I did something that millions were unable to do. I walked out of Dachau; I walked out, leaving the camp behind but keeping its memory, along with the memory of those six million murdered human beings, in my heart, never to let myself forget, never to allow something like the Holocaust to ever happen again.

So it is with this in mind that every year on Holocaust Remembrance Day, I remember. I cannot forget. I won’t forget. My candle is lit to remember them. All of them.

Holocaust comes from the Greek to be burnt whole - a sacrifice consumed by fire.