Growing Up (9), a true kind of short love story - Epilogue

(continued from part 8)

Epilogue

The next few months, many things happened that changed our family and, of course, my own life - forever.

My second youngest sister moved out, and soon after, my 17-year-old baby sister also left for a small flat. My mother often mentioned that she would leave once her responsibilities of raising her children were over. One Wednesday afternoon, one of my sisters arrived with an empty van and helped my mother secretly move out. She had spent years preparing and felt justified in taking all the money and financial resources, clearing out the bank accounts as compensation for the time she dedicated to her children.

When my father returned from a tour the next day, he discovered an empty apartment and had to inquire with me, the last survivor, about my mother. I told him she left and had taken with her as much as she could: her better clothes, some mementos, and all the valuables she could find. He didn't even care for reasons or details; he knew that his alcoholism was the key factor in his trail of a broken family and ruined lives. Despite being dirty and exhausted, he just went to the bank to 'borrow some money to survive,' as he put it. My father knew the branch manager through my mother and had a stable income, so money was the least of his worries.

A few days later I accepted a registered divorce letter on his behalf. When I remember, the couple has to separate for one year before the divorce was legal.

It was the first time in my 21 year old life that we had one rare opportunity for some father-son time, but we grew too far apart. Except some short sentence my father did not talk to me, he showed no interest in making up for lost time or in my life at all. He carried on with his daily routines as if nothing had changed, even though I could tell he was hiding a lot deep inside. Despite his strong physique from loading his truck, his words and actions had become very slow and deliberate, sometimes too careful. As I remember, he always struggled to speak his mind or express himself - but now he fought to find the right words, seeming too afraid of inflicting even more harm.

A few weeks later, I told my father that I had myself found a place and would move out within the next few days. When his reaction was, 'You want to leave me too?', I could finally notice some emotions in his eyes. In my defense, I had nothing to add or clarify, and I couldn't find a valid reason to change course. I had so save myself and walk my own way.

Our relationship was always challenging for me. He was seldom home and, throughout my life, he never showed any genuine interest in me or my activities. Forgotten birthdays were just one example. We lived under the same roof but led completely separate lives and developed in different human beings. We had no shared interests; as an addicted father, he could not lead by example and was never willing to share any thoughts or ideas.

Besides his secret girlfriends and alcohol, he lacked any distinct interests or hobbies. While most fathers try to bond with their sons over topics like football, history, politics, or general life discussions, he never tried. His political stance was that "we need a new Hitler to destroy Germany, which we have worked to build up!" I could never connect with the notion of using extremism to address everyday challenges.

In my 60s, I enrolled in the 'Basics of Psychology' online course at Yale University (USA). There, I discovered that 'boys look to their fathers for guidance and as a behavioral model in the world and in relationships.' Fortunately, as a young boy, I quickly realized that my father wasn't someone to emulate, a realization that was both sad and difficult to accept. However, in hindsight, this clearly defined relationship saved me a lot of time from pursuing misguided dreams and directions. As I grew older, I chose role models without close personal connections, learning primarily through experiences; I kept what resonated with my beliefs and discarded what clashed with my Christian values or seemed unrealistic or foolish.

Although it was a challenging task for a very young boy to navigate life independently, I strive to remain true to myself in the promises of God:

"24 The Lord bless you and keep you, 25 the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; 26 the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace."

Parting ways with my father was a difficult change I had been expecting since I could think. Despite the pain, I felt a profound relief in being able to breathe freely without the fear of intimidation and mental and physical abuse—for the first time in my life!

I have a dream, a song to sing

To help me cope, with anything

If you see the wonder, of a fairy tale,

You can see the future, even if you fail

I believe in angels,

Something good in everything I see

I believe in angels,

When I know the time is right for me

I cross the stream, I have a dream

I have a dream, of fantasy

to help me through reality

And my destination, makes it worth the while

Pushing through the darkness, still another mile

I believe in angels

Something good in everything I see

I believe in angels

When I know the time is right for me

I cross the stream, I have a dream

I cross the stream, I have a dream

ABBA, I have a dream

After I left the apartment, my father got a letter from the government indicating he was no longer qualified to reside in the social housing. He was instructed to renovate the apartment for the next family, which meant he had to move his own things but also the things of his wife and children left. I don't know how he felt and will never know...

One of his girlfriends had recently inherited a house from her father, giving my father an opportunity for a new beginning. At first, he was eager to contribute actively to the household, but he quickly fell back into his old patterns of alcoholism, laziness, and neglecting his hygiene. He visibly declined right before my eyes with each of my irregular visits. His black hair turned gray almost overnight, and his skin developed a dark yellow tint while his fingers turned blue. His third wife died a few weeks before he did, and he passed away at the relatively young age of 68, alone after having ruined three marriages and fathered six children that I have known of!

It was hard to forgive the one who destroyed my childhood and my youth, someone who made me feel like I was a useless orphan without a father, feeling ashamed to be his son. I had to face and climb the huge mountains of life by myself with a bag full of mental and physical abuse holding me back in whatever I did. I tried to work on it and finally found the strength to forgive him.

After his death, I encouraged my three sisters to work on forgiveness like me, but too much damage was done. All of them refused to pay their share of the gravestone as a final chance of reconciliation not only for themselves but for their own families and the next generation. But they chose rather not to have anything to do with him. I faced anger and insults for even calling, which destroyed the last straw of the relationship between us children. By paying for this gravestone, I found inner peace and a lot of strength to move forward without anger and hate. In my prayers, I thanked God that He let me see and realize, and I discovered that He was with me the whole time.

A new chapter in my life

The new apartment I moved to was actually close to my parents' home. It was located in the basement of a single-family house, and my rent helped cover a part of their mortgage. As it was furnished, I was able to save some money.

Trying to live alone, I realized how much I had to learn. I bought a simple bucket with an engine as a washing machine substitute and washed the first time my clothes. With a fridge in my apartment I was trying to cook simple meals, it took me three attempts to cook the potatoes correctly and only two tries for edible noodles.

After living there for six months, I received my draft notice from the German Army for military service starting in January 1995. Wanting to travel one month before, I quit my job at the Volkswagen/Audi/Porsche dealer and enjoyed some sunshine in Thailand.

Over the next 15 months, I not only learned to maintain my equipment, manage my gun as defense of my country as a German soldier. I met some other remarkable young men, showing me that there is very different world out there. Many people call it a waste of time but for me I gained a lot of knowledge and experienced a significant personal growth during this time in my life.

Following my 15 months service, I worked in different jobs to save money for traveling. However, things didn't unfold as expected, leading me back to Germany where I relocated to Mannheim to live with my older sister. I found employment as a typist for the US Army and traveled once more to the Far East. After spending time in Thailand, Burma, and Hong Kong, my funds dwindled, and I visited my final destination, Taiwan. On Orchid Island, I met a very kind and intriguing young woman.

Upon returning to Germany, I landed a position at a photo wholesaler. One day, my sister phoned to let me know that someone from England was attempting to reach me. It turned out to be the girl from Taiwan, who was visiting her sister in England. We met again and discovered that, despite our different upbringings, we shared many similarities like her mother died when she was very young and my father did not care about me.

In the summer of 1989, just before the Berlin Wall came down, I chose to leave Germany and move to Taiwan. Although it might seem straightforward, it was actually a significant risk. I was unfamiliar with the history and culture and didn't speak Chinese. Yet, I felt confident enough to begin a new chapter in my life with only 500 Euros in cash, a backpack with a few essentials and clothes, and, of course my childhood teddy bear.

With the help of my wife's sister, I found a job at a trading company, got married in 1990, and became a father two years later. After being deceived by the company to which I had contributed significantly, I established my own business in 1993. Except for a break from 1998 to 2001, Taiwan has been my home ever since. Despite experiencing many painful and negative events during my childhood, I can say that I built a loving and functional family, became a good husband, and a responsible father. I accomplished this without compromising my personal interests such as cycling, photography, writing, and even serving as a pastor for the homeless for 2 1/2 years. In my 50s, I earned a diploma from a Christian seminary and completed my first short-distance triathlon. At the start of my 60s, I studied 'Basics of Psychology' online at Yale.

I credit the success of my personal life story to various factors, primarily steering clear of my father's alcoholism and my mother's Nazism, along with all the unhealthy and selfish aspects associated with them. From a very young age, my parent's negative examples helped me recognize harmful habits and blind beliefs developed out of ignorance and frustration.

(to be continued)