Recently it was my birthday and during that day I decided to share with you all my story. This story is long, but worth reading, this post is only Part 1. So I suggest you read it when you are chilling out at home, cosy in your sofa with a cup of tea or coffee, this way you can enjoy a real story in its fully details.
It all started when I was very young, growing up without a father.
When I was a child my mother used to tell me this:
My father was a German and his name was Jürgen. When he went to Rio de Janeiro (Brasil) for a long trip he met my mother. They dated and began enjoying the city together. During the trip my mother took my father to my grandmother's house for Christmas (December 1986) and he loved the food, especially the "Bacalhoada", a Portuguese dish made of salt-cod. They stayed together for a short period of time, but my father fell in love for my mother, she used to say.
My father was a goalkeeper, with more than 2 metres in height, and he also worked as a house decorator. He used to design furniture etc. When he had to come back to Germany, he promised to my mother to come back, marry her and take her to live with him in Germany. My mother found out she was pregnant, and decided to wait him to come back to tell him. But, suddenly, after 2 months that he was in Germany, my father died.
He was found by my grandfather on the floor of the apartment he rented. Apparently my father had a stroke and was in a coma for 10 days. Whilst he was having the stroke he had written a note on the bathroom's mirror to call to my mother and had put her number.
My grandfather called to ask who she was. She explained that they dated and that she was pregnant. He told her what had happened and he offered to pay for flight tickets for my mother. My grandfather wanted to wait for her to bury him, but my mother told him to do it as she still needed to make a passport and it was going to take a while.
My mother travelled to Germany, met my family there, went to the cemetery to see my father's grave, and came back to Brasil. After I was born, with 2 months old, my grandfather sent flight tickets again and this time my mother took me with her to meet them.
Something happened there between my grandmother and my mother. It seems that they fought and it looks like my grandmother wanted me to stay there, and of course my mother didn't agree. So she came back to Brasil and cut contact with them. She even moved to another house afraid of them finding her.
So that was my father's story. The only one I knew. While he was back in Germany, my father had sent some letters to my mother with pictures of him, my grandparents (Egon and Pauline), my aunt (Gabi) and my cousin (whose name I couldn't read in the note on the photo). The letters also had pictures of the apartment my father rent and was decorating to live with her. Below you see my father, Jürgen Eckert, holding a ball in the football pitch he used to play as a goalkeeper.
When I was a bit older, my mother gave me the pictures and realized that we had none of my father's letters. We had suffered a flood when I was a kid and we lost a lot of things, including the letters and other pictures of him.
Anyway, the dream of my life was to find my German family and visit my father's town! All my life I dreamed of it and I used to tell all my friends that one day it was going to happen.
The fact is that I was poor, I didn't have conditions to search for them. I didn't have enough information, either. Every time I asked my mother about my German family she used to say that they didn't want to know about me. She said she didn't remember the name of the town, just that she flew to Frankfurt and from there she went to a nearby city.
I had the pictures and their first names written by my father, but even the surname I only knew by sound...
I will stop the story in here so this blog post doesn't get too long. If you are enjoying the story (believe me it gets very exciting), you are invited to read the "Dreams do come true - Part II" that I will post soon!
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Honey Bunny Amigurumis