Farewell, My Friend

One of the biggest adventures of my life was being an exchange student for a year in Germany.  When I was 16 years old, I boarded a plane and flew off to Deutschland to live in a beautiful little village just north of the Alps.  There are many, many stories to tell about that year and all that it meant to me, but the purpose of today's post is to pay respects to a great man I met during that glorious, fun-filled time of my life.

My heart is very heavy after finding out that Paul, the father of one of my dear friends, died on Saturday.  Unfortunately, he passed away very suddenly and without warning, and I am sure his family is still in shock that he's gone. 

I cannot think of that year in Germany and all of the visits since without thinking of Paul and his lovely wife, Annemarie.  He and I first met when I started dating his son.  At the time, I was still learning German and Paul did not speak English, so I am fairly certain he did not understand 90% of what I said.  Nonetheless, each time I saw him, he greeted me warmly with a smile.  Over the course of that year, I learned the language and he and I got along royally.  He was a large, strapping, hard-working man with the rosiest cheeks you've ever seen.  To me, he was the quintessential Bavarian.

Although I am sure the last thing Paul wanted to do was to go shopping with me, one of my favorite memories of him is the day he and Annemarie took me to Munich to buy me a Dirndl - a traditional Bavarian dress.  They were convinced (or at least Annemarie was) that I could not leave Germany without having one by which to remember them.  Paul drove us into the city and we made our way through countless shops until we found just the right Dirndl.  I never heard Paul complain a bit.  He just quietly made his way to the nearest chair in each store and waited patiently until Annemarie and I were ready to head to the next one.

After we found just the right outfit to transform me into a bonafide Bavarian girl, we headed back to their beautiful home where he promptly changed into his Lederhosen and Annemarie put on her own Dirndl.  We then headed to their backyard, where we had our picture taken together with their Swiss Mountain Dog, Arco.  The three of us and the dog looked like extras from the "Sound of Music."

Over the course of the past twenty plus years, I have had the opportunity to visit Paul and Annemarie several times.  A trip to Germany has never failed to include spending some time with them eating a slice of cake baked by Annemarie.  Even my husband had the pleasure of meeting Paul a couple of times.  And, though neither one of them spoke the other's language, my husband took quite a liking to Paul.  He, too, saw the kindness in his eyes and smile.

Paul leaves behind a wife, son, daughter-in-law, two granddaughters, and countless family and friends, who I am certain will miss him immensely.  I know I will.  I am so thankful that I had the honor of getting to know this wonderful man and to call him my friend.  My German adventures would not have been complete without the memories of spending time with him learning how to be a true Bavarian.

My "German Mom" sent me Paul's obituary this morning and I think the first line of it says it all: "Aus der Lieben Kreis geschieden, aus den Herzen aber nie, weint nicht, er ruht in Frieden, doch für uns starb er zu früh."  Translated: Out of the loving circle separated, but never out of our hearts, do not cry, he rests in peace, but for us he died too soon.