Your Heart is your purpose E-Book

Kai Pfrommer

• Herausgeber: tredition
• Kategorie: Sachliteratur, Reportagen, Biografien
• Sprache: Englisch
• Veröffentlichungsjahr: 2021

Seitenzahl: 196

Beschreibung

It is not always easy to find the right path of life in order to avoid some of the obstacles. Often we blindly and unconsciously steer through the difficult-to-digest everyday life - with both its good and bad moments. Forget the compass, however, and listen to your heart! This book not only tells the story from the stimulating point of view of the aspiring author in childhood and adulthood, but also puts the deep bond with his stepson on the stage of life. A strong bond that has had to grow and will continue to grow. The emotional facets of the hidden happiness are yet to be found. Join in this quest and become aware of how beautifully life can "sing".

Leseprobe

Kai Pfrommer

© 2021 Kai Pfrommer

Prologue

Chapter 1

For a long time my mother and I lived together with my stepfather in his father's house. Since 2015, I have now been living in my grandparents' house again, which means that memories of my grandfather are rekindled time and again. Sometimes I even have the feeling that he is very close to me. In the beginning this feeling made me a little bit afraid, but in the meantime a smile sneaks on my lips when I think him close to me.

And so I smile even now. Our breakfast is over by now, and I have retreated to the garden for a short while to continue reminiscing a bit about the past. Relaxed, I lay down on the garden lounger and let myself be spoiled by the warm rays of the sun.

My dear great-grandmother has unfortunately passed away in the meantime. As a result, we agreed that my grandma would move to the second floor because of her age, while I now occupy the second floor with my wife and son. As already mentioned, our house is located in a valley, and not far from it is the stream. Until 1999, it was a little closer to our house.

But due to a severe flood, when our entire village was under water, the course of the stream was changed so that we would not have to experience such a terrible event a second time in the future. The year 1999 was an eventful year for me. A lot happened, some good things, some not so good and some frightening things, so this year will always remain unforgettable for me.

When I see the number 1999 somewhere, the first thing I think of is my little sister. We don't have the same father, but for me she is and will always be my real sister. She has played an important role for me all my life, she always gives me support and always has the right advice ready for me, and when I have problems, I can always and everywhere rely on her. And it's the same the other way around, I would never let her down.

She was born that year, and I can still remember very clearly how exciting that time was for me and how much I was looking forward to my little sister. She wasn't even born then, and I was already very fond of her and couldn't wait to finally see her, cuddle with her, play with her, and hold her in my arms for the first time.

The entire time my mother was pregnant, I snuggled up to her belly every day and tried to hear something. Sometimes the little one kicked vigorously, sometimes not so much, and sometimes there was no sign of her at all.

At the same time, I asked my mother the same questions almost every day: "When can I finally see my little sister? When is she coming? When is it finally time?" Towards the end of the pregnancy, I could even see my mother's belly getting bigger day by day, and thus my excitement increased as well, because I realized that it might not be long before my little sister would join our family.

But one day the wondering was over. My mother went to the hospital to give birth to my little sister. I followed with my stepfather and could hardly wait any longer, I was completely excited and jumpy, also picked up some things from my stepfather, because he was not different from me.

Although I was still very small and could not really appreciate all of this, I knew that something wonderful was happening and that this wonderful thing would enrich our lives. The miracle was my little sister.

To avoid the feeling of being neglected, I was given a small boat for the bathtub. I was told that this boat had taken my little sister when she came into the world to bring a little joy to her big brother.

Again a smile sneaks onto my lips when I think about this gesture of my family, since I now know how it was meant. I keep thinking, and I'm looking forward to what it will be like when I take my son to the hospital one day so that he can meet his little sister or brother.

These thoughts immediately give me pleasant goosebumps, and I can instantly feel my heart begin to beat faster. This event will be another great moment in my life, together with my wife and son.

When I finally got to see my baby sister for the first time, it was a very exciting moment for me. On the one hand, I was afraid to hold this little innocent baby in my arms, but on the other hand, I couldn't wait. So little by little I realized that I was now a big brother, and I took it upon myself that I would protect and love her always and everywhere, even if she should one day make a mistake. Although I didn't know anything about life yet, I wanted to show her everything.

My mother always put her for a nap in her crib in our shared nursery. I was allowed to play quietly with my Lego bricks next to her, but when I saw her lying so quietly and peacefully with me, I squeezed through the bars of the crib and just lay down to cuddle with her.

One day, along with my mom and stepdad, we settled into their large bed for a nap. My sister and I woke up sooner, and out of boredom, she started picking the feathers out of the pillow. I, of course, thought it was just as neat and fascinating that these feathers were in the pillow. So we played happily on the floor with our new toy until my mom woke up and caught us doing it. She didn't think it was so funny, of course; after all, the entire floor was full of the white feathers.

Still, we always enjoyed ourselves and I miss those times together and those wonderful events of our childhood, but we all grow older, we can't stop time and we can't be children forever.

I take a deep breath, close my eyes for a moment and deeply inhale the fresh spring air. As in the morning, various birds are chirping in the trees. I can sometimes hear even the stream babbling. Thus the next memory of the year 1999 immediately comes to my mind.

It was a hot summer day in July. It had been stiflingly hot and very humid all day, and we all knew that there would probably be a violent thunderstorm later that day. And as our premonition came true, so did our worst nightmare.

A severe thunderstorm broke over us. It poured with rain, and within a very short time my beloved and familiar stream turned into a brown broth and a raging river. The current became incredibly fast, flooding the sports field in a matter of seconds and even sweeping away the bridge leading to it. Waves, the likes of which I had only seen on television, crashed over the bank.

The water did not stop and no one could really contain it. The entire village was simply taken by surprise by this flood. No one could have expected such a terrible magnitude because of a thunderstorm. Never in my life would I have expected that an inconspicuously small, peaceful stream could become a deadly trap.

Since my grandmother's cellar was two feet lower than the street, it filled up immediately and she had no chance to react or to stop the water in any way. Fortunately for us and her, she had stayed home that day because her car was in the workshop. Due to her bedroom renovation at that time, we had already moved her clothes to the basement for the interim until we were done with her room.

In the basement, all the doors were ripped open by the force of the water, and my grandma's clothes were simply washed away. Although I wasn't there at the time, I always have the images in my mind of the dirty water pouring into the house through the basement windows, breaking everything and taking it with it.

Grandpa's model trains were also in the basement that day, but they were on high wall shelves so the water had no chance to reach them. But all the machines, furniture and whatever else was in my grandma's basement could only be disposed of after the flood.

When the terrible natural disaster hit us, I was in my stepfather's apartment together with my mother and my little sister. We were lucky because the house was on a higher level, so the water had no way to reach us. My stepfather was in the fire department and that day he did not hesitate for a second to help the people in our village.

My mother and I were very worried about my grandmother and my great-grandparents, who also lived in the house at that time. While I was thinking about my grandmother at that terrible moment and hoping that she was all right, a short memory came to me that somewhat reassured me: I often visited a small corner store in our village with my grandmother. When we went there, I always got some sweets, which I would look forward to.

We even had our own local bakery until I was ten years old. Of course, the kindergarten and the elementary school were not to be missed. In addition, there was a sawmill right in the center of the village, which was powered by the stream. Today there is the so-called "Ortspark", a modern playground for the children.

When the flood was finally over, our worries also disappeared, because nothing had happened to my grandmother and my great-grandparents, except that the cellar was now full of a thick layer of mud and almost everything in it was no longer usable for the most part. The front garden was also just mud, the flowers, the lawn, everything was gone or destroyed. The whole village helped together at that time to repair the damage, some of which was severe. But our solidarity was rewarded, because we made it.

The rest of the summer, fortunately for us, there were no more such severe storms. And before we knew it, winter was just around the corner and so was Christmas. Like every year, and as I knew it no other way, the whole family gathered. My grandma, step grandpa and great grandparents came to our apartment. But one particular person was unfortunately not there, and that was my dad.

My mother prepared a fabulous meal, the Christmas tree was beautifully decorated as always and was standing in our living room. The scent of the needles wafted throughout the apartment, mingling with the scent of the food and the aroma of the various candles my mother was lighting. I smelled cinnamon, vanilla, and fir.

I find myself trying to smell the scents, even though we are facing summer for now. A smile spreads across my lips.

That year we were lucky and could marvel at a white Christmas. It started snowing right on time, so Christmas was perfect for me. I can still remember that I immediately noticed that there were no presents under the Christmas tree, but I couldn't deal with it any further because my mother called me to dinner.

So we all sat together and enjoyed a very tasty and well balanced meal. The adults chatted cheerfully, the mood was relaxed and calm. After the meal, some of the family took me out into the garden, which was great fun. We frolicked in the snow and built a snowman, and I didn't even notice that the other part of the family was missing.

Today I know that they were pretending to be Santa Claus, putting the presents for the children under the Christmas tree to make us very happy and to keep the magic of Christmas. When they were done with that, they took us back to the apartment. My first trip was, as always, to the living room, and when I got there, I couldn't believe my eyes.

Totally relaxed, I imagine myself standing in the living room with my mouth open and my eyes wide and shining, staring at the Christmas tree and the presents underneath. Even today I remember how excited I was about it and how happy I was about it, especially, of course, that Santa Claus had thought of us and left us presents.

Wherever I looked, there were presents. There was something for everyone. I got more Lego bricks to expand my already built houses, and my little sister got baby toys. The whole evening we kept playing together by the Christmas tree, I couldn't tear myself away from my Lego bricks. Thus Christmas Eve went by much too quickly.

The second Christmas Day, which we actually wanted to spend as a small family relaxing and carefree at home, was again filled with doubts and worries. Already in the early morning we felt that the day and the night could become very tiring for us, because a gale was approaching and it did not intend to spare us.

My stepfather didn't have much time to spend with us that day, because his beeper from the fire department went off very early. As with the summer flood, he didn't hesitate long and headed out to clear fallen trees from the streets and pump out basements.

The storm grew stronger and stronger, so we huddled in a corner in the children's room and waited for the storm to pass. Even today I can remember the fear, not only mine, but my mother's as well. She cried and sobbed and hugged my sister and me tightly. I clung to her, startled every time something flew around outside and made an eerie noise.

We heard trees creak and squeak until they fell over. The wind whistled across our roof with an outrageous sound and as if it wanted to take everything in its path with it. And it did, branches and all objects that were not secured flew around uncontrolled, damaging house walls and cars.

Only the three of us were at home. My mother would not let us go. As she pressed me against her, I could feel her violent heartbeat. I would have loved to calm her down and tell her that everything would be okay and that the storm would surely be gone soon. But at that point, my heart was beating even faster with fear than hers.

After a long time holed up in the nursery, we noticed that the wind was finally dying down a bit. It became quieter outside, and so did the beating of our hearts. I remember fetching toys and playing together with my mother. That distracted us a little, and we didn't have to think about the terrible gale all the time. It weakened more and more, but my stepfather was still out almost the whole night to help the people affected by the storm.

Chapter 2

The elementary school with a small schoolyard is located on the periphery of our village, less than thirty feet next to it is the kindergarten, which I attended until I was six years old. In the other direction is a beautiful school lawn that everyone is allowed to use to play on. Next to it is the fire station, where also my stepfather serves, and beyond that is a large gymnasium.

When I was six years old, the time had finally come and I transferred from kindergarten to the elementary school, which was not far away. Fortunately for me, the school was also less than five minutes from my home at the time.

Elementary school was a rather difficult part of my life. True, I was looking forward to a change, to school and to all the new kids and teachers. But unfortunately, it didn't come as wonderful and easy as I imagined it all to be back then as a child.

I don't like to think back to my school days when I feel all the unpleasant feelings inside me. My very first day of school was on a warm and sunny September morning. I was quite excited and jumpy, and very happy that my natural father was also with me on this important day, as well as my grandparents. At the beginning, there was a big gathering in the schoolyard with all the other children who were starting school together with me.

When I was assigned to my new class, the first class photo was taken, and then we were allowed to explore our new classroom. All of this somehow went by me in a matter of seconds. I was aware of everything, my family, the other children, the teachers and the school, but if someone were to ask me today what exactly I was feeling, I couldn't say.

In the classroom there were many desks and chairs, and on one side there were huge windows facing the schoolyard. The blackboard and the desk of my new teacher were in front. I immediately chose a seat right at the front, so that I could follow the future lessons closely and without much distraction. For the most part, I knew the other children from kindergarten, but of course others from the surrounding communities joined our class.

I always had a hard time making friends with other kids. Moreover, I didn't really want to make any new friends during school entry, I wanted to get the day over with as quickly as possible.

That's why I didn't hang out much with the others and tended to stay out of sight, preferring to observe everything from a safe distance. If someone asked me something, then of course he got an answer from me, anything else would have been rude. But I did not approach any other or unknown child on my own.

If I remember correctly, it was also much more important for me that day that my natural father was at my side and supported me. Because after my first day at school, we all went to our house, there we had coffee and cake, and afterwards my father accompanied me to my room and we played with my Lego.

We built an airplane together, we had a lot of fun and laughed together. At that moment, I realized that I really missed spending time with my father, and to this day I still don't understand why we didn't see each other as often. It's exactly this memory of my father that comes to my mind every time I think back to my first day of school.

The day was very special for me, even a little magical, because it was a miracle for me that he was there on my first day of school and then also played with me. I remember wishing several times that it would never end.

But unfortunately this wish did not come true. In the evening my father said goodbye to me. I was very sad and the pain was very bad when I had to let him go. And why? Because I knew at that time that I would see him irregularly thereafter.

Chapter 3

Every year at school start I was looking forward to the summer vacations, not the autumn, Christmas or Easter vacations, no, it was always the summer vacations because they were the longest and I could really switch off from school in these six weeks. But I also looked forward to the long vacations because we usually went away during them. There was one vacation that stayed and will stay in my memory forever.

At that time I was eight years old, and for the first time I was allowed to go on vacation alone with my grandma to the North Sea for a week. I was totally excited and had been looking forward to it all year. The closer the day got, the more jumpy I got, and then it finally started.

My grandmother had booked a trip by bus, and there were lots of other people with her. My mother drove us quite early to the bus company three villages away, there the entire travel party met. So it took a while until all the luggage of the travelers was stowed in the bus and everyone was assigned their seats.

In spite of all this, things moved along quite quickly, and then we were finally able to depart. Even today I remember how hard my heart was beating when the bus started moving and I realized that I was about to go on vacation - and all alone with my beloved grandma. Although it was still dark outside, I took one last good look at the area and silently said goodbye: "Goodbye. We will meet again in a week."

I was the youngest on this bus trip, which was a big highlight for me at the time. But it wasn't just that fact, it was just everything about that trip. There was not a single moment I regretted going on vacation with my grandma.

During the trip, our travel companions told me many different stories, some made up, some out of their lives, and although I always had a hard time approaching or opening up to other people, I had no trouble at all with these people. I felt comfortable around them and always wanted to hear more stories. It was just wonderful and by my side always my grandma.

Even today, when I think about that trip, I get goose bumps and I notice that my pulse increases a bit. Although I was traveling alone with my grandma, I also had the feeling at times that my grandpa was there watching over us.

When we finally arrived at the North Sea, we first went to our hotel room. There we took a close look at everything and settled in. In the evening, we had a very delicious dinner in the restaurant, and we were given more information about our trip, for example, how the weather would be the next few days and which destinations were on the itinerary.

The participants could decide for themselves if they wanted to join in on these trips or if they wanted to go exploring on their own. My grandmother and I, however, were present at every event, which I liked very much. Because that way I could learn something about the North Sea and, above all, see it. One day we took the ferry across the North Sea. I close my eyes and try to remember the fresh sea air and how it felt when the wind blew in my face.

Another day we hiked for miles over sand dunes to a wonderful and gigantic lighthouse. Even today I can feel the sand between my toes and know how I felt standing next to that massive lighthouse. Also, we once went along the North Sea by horse-drawn carriage.

Still, there was one day when we didn't go on an excursion and stayed at the hotel instead. Our hotel was less than 150 feet from the sea. Unfortunately, it was raining a bit that day, but still we decided to take a little walk on the beach.

As soon as we got there, the tide went out and the sea retreated, which I found very fascinating even as a little boy. Where there had been water before, suddenly the bottom of the sea was visible, and we could walk on it.