“Instructions for living a life.
Tell about it.”
There is one last witness living who was present at my birth.
Meet my last living brother. He was twelve when I was born. I was a surprise as my mother was forty-three when she conceived. I followed three boys so many years later. They treated me like a princess and at some point I became an adult in their eyes.
Below you see my birthplace, a home built by my father and brothers in West Germany, some years after they left Silesia as refugees. The trees behind the house remind me that living amongst trees is my legacy.
Visits from my brother to this island are momentous events.
Last April, when he came, we rode all the ferries we could because he loves standing on the front of the boat and letting the wind and sun rush through him. THIS is my brother. I love him!
Happy birthday to me, today.
He will call and if he forgets I will call him. We learned that from our older brother who never once forgot to call us and reminded us when we slipped.
I am writing for 31 days this October about Island Life. Click here to see the other days of writing.