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Frank Behrendt: Generously gives away the most valuable gift in the world

When I hear “Last Christmas” on the radio – as so often in the run-up to Christmas – I think of my grandmother Hanne. It was the warmth of my childhood, a big red heart balloon come to life. These days I can only advise everyone to spend as much quality time as possible with the oldest family members. This time never returns and every hour we spend together is infinitely precious.

Time: beginning of Advent, mid-1970s. Location: Otterndorf, a tranquil climatic health resort on the world shipping route. My two siblings and I sat in the back of the jam-packed silver Fort Taunus tournament. From the North Sea coast, we went to Hanover, as so often, to visit my father’s mother and our grandmother. Her husband, our grandpa, had died a few years ago, she missed him very much, the contact with her children and grandchildren was the warming sun of her age.

Even decades later, I still remember her happy face in the door frame of the apartment on the first floor, near the Eilenriede. She beamed over both reddened cheeks, her eyes shone and only those who looked closely discovered the glittering tears of happiness. Even then I always looked very carefully because I loved my grandmother, her kindness, her smile, her understanding, her soft hugs. I can still smell the smell of the homemade cookies, each one lovingly decorated with colorful little pearls on the dark chocolate background. They tasted the way they looked: divine.

Traditionally, my brother and I were given a Matchbox car in a tiny blue and yellow cardboard slipcase every time we visited. Our little sister always got a horse from Schleich. We cherished the little cars, they are still in a cupboard in the cellar today. My absolute favorite car that my grandmother once gave me, a yellow jeep with a little lion spinning on its back, has been on my desk for decades. As a lucky charm and a loving memory of grandma.

Please write

I still remember that my parents used to ask me to write a small card to my grandparents on a regular basis – sometimes a letter on special occasions. And on Sundays, when my father traditionally spoke to her on the phone, we should also briefly send a loving greeting over the phone. I want to stay with the truth: we also often grumbled and had to be urged to put a few lines on paper. There was always something else exciting to do, tweaking the Bonanza wheel or watching Bonanza on TV.

But our parents were adamant and in retrospect it was a good thing. Today I would give anything to talk to my grandmother again. For days and nights. I would want to hear everything from her, maybe even write a book about her memories, invite her to my podcast. But unfortunately that is no longer possible.

So I followed in the motivating footsteps of my parents and now encourage our children to contact their two grandmothers on a regular basis. When they grumble, I smile at it and stick with it until they have granted my wish. It’s about a good cause and how should they know at a young age how wonderful and valuable grandparents are and how much you miss them when they are no longer there.

A magical family celebration

Of course we also maintain the family tradition that Christmas is celebrated together with the whole family. After all, it is the same in Astrid Lindgren’s stories, which I love, about the children of Bullerbü. Everyone is there, partying and sitting under the festively decorated Christmas tree. My experience with visits is also that it is better to visit relatives once more – even spontaneously – than too little.

I always have the experience in the back of my mind when my late father once invited to a house concert in the blue house on the North Sea coast and we initially canceled it because the way was too far for us and there were other things to do in the vicinity of Cologne. But at the time I had an inspiration, an inner voice that drove me to get into the car with kids on Saturday lunchtime and drive 450 kilometers north. So we quickly packed the bare minimums, picked up the muddy junior from the soccer field, the youngest was already in the child seat, Bibi Blocksberg happily witched in the CD player. My wife booked a hotel by phone on the way, we didn’t say anything to my parents. As feared, there were a lot of traffic jams and we struggled through. Bibi Blocksberg was replaced by Benjamin Blümchen in alternation.

We arrived exactly at the moment when my father greeted the numerous guests with a short speech. He wept with happiness when he saw us – especially his two youngest grandchildren. It was an unforgettable evening, an absolutely magical moment in family history. Precisely because it was an absolute surprise, my father was immeasurably happy. A week later he died much too early. We were infinitely sad, but it was a small consolation that he left this world with an emotional happening in the circle of people who were close to his heart.

Again this year, in the run-up to Christmas, we will provide surprises that will bring tears to the eyes of loved ones. Just like my grandmother had when we toddlers with funny bobble hats stood in front of her. This year, one reads everywhere, various gifts will be scarce or no longer available. All the same. The most precious gift was, is and will be time together. Please give them away very, very generously.

Source From: Stern

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