A Bavarian Farmhouse

Susi’s father, Klaus, spent a long time dying. Where an average person would’ve lasted a fortnight, he, such was his lust for life, hung on to the bitter end and managed to last five weeks in the hospice. He, was Susi assured me, not terribly keen on fuss, on people making a show of him and so it was no surprise when he decided to leave this world early in the morning of Sunday, August 17th. Even though, the hospice had called and Mary Lou had told us that the signs were not good and we should come early, Susi and I were discussing which books we should have brought as we walked into through the grounds in what was already 24° C of summer heat-wave. In the corridor of the hospice, outside his room, we could clearly see that a small table had appeared with a vase of flowers and a solid red candle burning bright enough to splash the walls with flickering yellow. “That’s not a good sign,” I said, thinking out loud deliberately, in the absence of having any purposeful thing to say. If

Time can move so swiftly when you work as freelance, moving from one project to the next and for this reason I have not blogged for a while. But life and death in South Germany will continue when I write up my visit to Heidelberg.