My father’s parents lived in the Harz, a highland region in West Germany, close to the deadly East German border.
They reside in the small town of St. Andreasberg.
My cousins and I loved our grandpa, hung on his legs when he came home from work smiling mischievously.
We were not bothered that he had lost his hearing in the 1st World War and his pronunciation was difficult to understand. Anyway, I done my best to understood him and ununderstood the most words he said.
My Grandpa worked in the sawmill. He was a gifted mechanic, and the sawmill’s noisy steam engine was his world.
Already in pension he fixed issues in the sawmill, a car came to pick him up. I’m still so proud of my deaf grandfather.
Grandma usually sat enthroned in the TV chair, said quite oracle-like things. In the cellar there were still some mysterious herbal mixtures that grandma had touched. Anyway, Grandma was the center of the family.
Grandpa get his first hearing aid after Grandma passed away, because she had always insisted that he didn’t need one. Grandpa was able to read from lips.
They have been gone for a long time, but they will forever remain in my heart.
This is a true live story and a slightly modified excerpt from my Kindle book:
For more confidence, success, and happiness in your life. Despite the circumstances, strokes of fate or disabilities.
