Growing Up (1), a true kind of short love story
- Gerhard Wanninger
- Oct 4, 2024
- 9 min read
Updated: Apr 14
Some Background
Not many of us were born into wealth, living in rich households, wearing the newest designer clothes, owning the latest gadgets, and driving cars gifted by our parents for our adult birthdays.
In contrast, I was 'fortunate' to grow up in a broken and quarreling family with parents unable to earn a decent living and, worst of all, failed to build a functional family. Both were children of World War II - my mother became a very dominant yet clueless Nazi, my father a weak and unable alcoholic not only running away from responsibilities but also cheating on his wife and family. In this toxic environment of uneducated parents with a tendency to violence, each one of their children naturally suffered from permanent mental and often physical abuse. While my father was spending his own money on women, we lived in social housing, wore the cheapest clothes, and went never on any vacation. We always rode the least expensive bikes or the bikes handed down from older siblings. I've never received pocket money from my parents, earned some through a Wednesday paper route when I was 15. One year earlier, I began cleaning my old school on the first days of our summer holidays. To raise half of the price of a small motorcycle, I had to put my life savings on the table.
When comparing my life to that of some of my privileged classmates, people might think I would consider my own life as unfair or unjust, as my mother put it. Someone in the same shoes relating to my obvious hopeless situation would start to question his or her general purpose in life. People would conclude that their existence might be seen as a misunderstanding or, even worse, perceive themselves as a burden on family and society.
I, however, never felt discouraged and knew there were these positive signs out there that encouraged me to go on and let me believe that there was something greater out there I only had to look hard enough. For me, positive individuals could recognize seemingly insignificant things that could drive us towards changes and hope for something greater and more meaningful in life. I just had to open my eyes and look hard enough.
Many, many years before serving in a homeless church as a part-time pastor for 2 1/2 years, I could see with my own eyes that many people chose the wrong direction, faced problems, and gave up much too easily on precious life. Many people tend to believe they know and have experienced everything, and therefore give up on changes; instead of continuing searching and hoping, they become negative, focusing on complaining about things they never had or rejected in the first place. People linger around until retirement and seem to escape into questionable ideologies and idols, following dubious theories not only due to disappointments but more as a confirmation of their own 'destiny', whatever this means. Many drown their life in stubbornness, alcohol, and even drugs - and end up living alone or, even worse, on the streets.
In my experience, the main problems in life come from how people view and handle situations, how to confront difficulties. My father never confronted or addressed any issues; he consistently avoided examining and changing unfavorable situations, never accepted his own responsibilities, but, like many real men, placed the blame on others instead. When he had a car accident while drunken, he sent his my mother to solve it, and when she found out about his girlfriends, he sent her fur coats. My mother had to run everything - from finances to management, had to do the housework, and take care of the children.
He wasn't present at home, he was a guest dumping his dirty clothes there, eating and prepared himself for leaving. When he talked, he was always the hero, but remembering the birthdays of his children was already too much. Once his wife told reminded him about my birthday on the morning table. He gave me five German Marks, the same tip he gave to a waitress or someone helping him on the job.
I was still a child, depending on my parents and had find a way to swallow the pain and live with them - whether I wanted to or not. My mother's favorite quote was "As long as you put your feet under my table, you have to do what I say". These few words summarized not only my relationship to her but also described her dominant character very accurately.
I don't know exactly when, but from a very young age, I started to build an invisible wall around myself, unwilling to be truly involved in the world I was living in. Yes, I was part of the family, but more from the view of a spectator than an integrated part of the team. I preferred to withdraw and stay alone in my room, surrounded by motorcycle magazines and books. My mother pressured me to go out and play with the neighbor's kids. In school, I did not have many friends.
But underneath this unstable environment or surface, I quietly prepared myself for an independent life when my time would come. Once I had my own income, I was able to move out and make my own decisions. Deep down, I was preparing myself for all the responsibilities and consequences that come with living freely. I knew that this day would come as surely as the 'Amen' in church. As I did not have loving and guiding but violent and uneducated parents, I tried to watch, listen, and learn from my surroundings, particularly from one Protestant pastor and a very kind English teacher. While my parents quarreling, I switched off. I lend some books from the library, not only as an escape from reality but even more to learn. Had Robinson Crusoe lost hope on this deserted island, he would have died from hunger, and without taking the initial steps to meet Friday, he would have remained alone - forever.
To some, I may appear as a silent fool drifting aimlessly between realms. I did not talk a lot because I did not have confidence in myself or in anything I could say. I had many things in my mind and often right on my tongue but the words did not come out. I would rather keep quiet and looked for reasons to escape conversations. Some would call me a loner, but I had many things going on. I've learned judo and football. In Judo, I learned about a very different country and culture which was much more interesting to me than the sport itself. Only once in Junior High have I had to defend myself from a bully in front of a group of classmates - and I felt very truly sorry about it even I 'won'.
I also listened to a lot of English songs, not only to learn English but also because of the contents of some songs which quite touched me by telling about situations touching my the world:
(Whitesnake - Here I Go Again)
Yes, I was very sure where I had been - and I knew what I did not want to turn into. I had no desire to transform into a heartless Nazi who would blindly follow traditions or irrational orders, or live a meaningless life as a cheating alcoholic. Surprisingly, despite the environment I was living in, I wanted to become a 'good' person with a positive influence on others, even though I did not know how I could become someone like this. But I believed there was this purpose I somehow followed.
Both of my parents were uneducated but full of frustration, anger, and an unexplainable hate towards themselves. To compensate for that, my father had many girlfriends, while my mother had only one friend for knitting and chatting! Life for them was clearly a punishment, and they made sure the children knew and felt it. We ate the cheapest food, wore the cheapest clothes, and lived in social housing. There was continuous violence in our upbringing, including child abuse, as all of us children were mentally and physically punished for our parents' wrongdoings. One evening, we children seriously discussed how we could run away. I wanted to live in the forest by myself, while my sister wanted to report to the police. We all hoped that we would end up in an orphanage somehow, but unfortunately, it never happened. Some might put it as child's play, but for me, it was very serious!
Despite all these problems, I can't explain why or how I've noticed positive signs in my young life. These small things were hard to notice at first but changed my perspective and influenced me profoundly. Things that 'enlightened' me in a very special way. Some of these inconspicuous situations or occurrences caught me immediately, some took a while to impact me, and, as a result, gave me directions in life.
For example, one of our neighbors had her cousin visiting from Bavaria, who was only a few years older than me. I realized that she was very different, much more mature than any of us. Not only her dialect was contrasting from ours but she had something that I would call 'fire' in her actions and words, difficult to explain. I liked to be around her and that's when I noticed that there must be other people unlike those I knew out there - for the first time. One day, when I learned that the person whose company I enjoyed so much had returned to her home, I felt truly sad.
The purpose of this blog is to share some of my more significant 'small things' that helped me to grow up to become a positive person, a good husband, and a responsible father. The son who was often called a failure by his own mother found his way in life, surprised about his his abilities to adapt, accept, and improve. As for some of these results, I've studied in a seminary and became a part-time pastor supporting others while running a successful company based in the Far East for nearly 30 years. Life can be good!
Small Escapes
Riding my first bicycle just in front of the house gave me the first true experience of freedom or the feeling of it. While still wobbling around, there was the sensation that I could ride wherever I wanted, as long there is my bike and a road. Falling off the bike did not bother me, bloody hands and knees were a mark of honor for me. I did not cry tears of pain but felt sad when my mother called me home for lunch or dinner...
When I was a 16-year-old teenager, I naturally bought a small motorcycle. It brought me the distance I longed from a much-quarreling family - whether it was between the parents, the parents, and their children and even among the children, copying their parents. Many of these senseless arguments turned ugly not only with loud words but also saliva and violent hands flying between family members! I have to admit that I suffered a lot at this place called 'home sweet home' and looked, of course, for chances to escape. With this motorbike, I was able to cut the cord and I rode at any chance I could find. Sometimes I rode for three hours just to eat a hamburger - I needed objectives, however ridiculous they might sound.
I felt only alive when I had these small escapes, whether on a bike or into books. My life seemed senseless to others but I did not know another way - I had bad idols and did not better!
As I grew older, I bought bigger motorcycles on which I continued my trips - I'd rather choose the open road than stay at home. Unfortunately, with a larger motorcycle came a heavier weight, and slipping on icy roads was neither fun nor safe. So I rode this Yamaha (and later Suzuki) only for 1/2 of the year (from March to September), for the remaining months both of my motorbikes hibernated in the basement and I took the bus.
In the beginning of the 1980s, global warming hasn't entered the mainstream. Autumns and winters were traditionally harsh in the southern part of Germany - often with snow and even ice covering the land and the roads. I remember once slipping three times on icy roads on my way to work on an early winter morning. Some days, the weather was so bad that I preferred taking the bus over getting wet or icy on my motorcycle. To avoid getting injured and my motorcycle damaged I already went in late September to the registration office and deregistered my bike. To get to my work, I bought a monthly pass for the bus.
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