Britta's Letters from her life divided between city-life in German's capital Berlin and life in a Bavarian village

Tuesday 29 April 2014

There it is in black and white

Britta Huegel

Seems I get a bit springtime lethargy, or having so many things to do that unnerve me, like getting the spring-summer wardrobe out of their boxes and put the winter wardrobe into boxes - and decide what is really needless or unbecoming and thus has to go. (I have too many clothes and too many shoes - but they all keep so well, are often really nice and timeless) - but being a woman I sometimes want diversification!
But at least I learned from last year's fault: then I bought a lovely white jacket (in springtime I suddenly develop a crush on White), and when I opened the boxes I found three more lovely white jackets - surprise, surprise...
I just read Elaine's post on Bramble Rambles - she finding a box full of old letters - and suddenly I remembered a very funny accidental meeting with a - let's call him 'a good friend' - a flame from my schooltime, he being a student then.
He became a quite famous TV show moderator (come to think of it: most of my flames became quite famous), and I met him by accident in another town at least a decade later, I having my then five-year old son with me.
The OF (Old Flame) and I recognized each other instantly (on my side not so remarkable, as I could see him over the years on the telly, being glad that Life had parted our ways), and we chatted for a while. Then son joined into the conversation.
"I know who you are", he said to OF.
The famous moderator smiled flattered and cajoled.
"You know me through television?" he asked.
"No. I know you from Mom's diaries", was the answer.
I seldom saw the expression "He got white like a sheet" so exquisitely put into close-up picture...

PS: Of course I only randomly told son that I knew the Famous-One - but it makes me think hard about what to do with my about 158 diaries I have in many boxes ...


  1. Priceless. I wondered about my diaries, too. So, I tossed them.

    1. Dear Joanne,
      I admire you as a woman who acts unflinching! I am at the moment still sentimental - so I'll think it over.

  2. Oh dear, what to do. Is there a way that we can will these things so that they skip a generation? that an adult grandchild might find them after we're long gone? Just think of the delight there might be in all that wonderful material!

    1. Dear Pondside,
      that is what husband proposed: I can write into my testament that access is only given after so and so many years. I think when son is 50 he can decide. I know how much I regret that my great-grandmother decided to take her diaries with her into her grave (it were only a few) - I would have loved to read them!

  3. This comment has been removed by the author.

    1. Oh my...earlier tonight I found a bundle of letters written to Dear Husband during our courtship some 45 years ago. I was not up to a stroll down memory lane, but think I may need to peruse these little love notes before my children come across them after-the-fact! Not sure I want to be reminded of the young, starry eyed 18 year old that I was, but then I might be surprised. Maybe easier to just clean out a closet and leave these undisturbed!

    2. Dear Susan,
      I am glad to hear from you - so you only take a creative pause in blogland :-) To find those bundle of letter is so exciting! I would keep them for reading the letters on a special day when you are in the mood - I always think that it is good to remember how one felt at a certain age - makes it easier to understand how the 'children' are now.
      The parents of husband had a very intensive exchange of letters during the World War II - husband was born whithout seeing his father, who was killed by a tragic mistake of identity in war. The letters will come out as a book in autumn, I think, because the parents were as Catholics against Hitler, and their letters depict a world of decent people that existed in Germany too at those hard times.

  4. This

    'I bought a lovely white jacket (in springtime I suddenly develop a crush on White), and when I opened the boxes I found three more lovely white jackets - surprise, surprise...'

    made me smile.


    'I know you from Mom's diaries'

    made me gasp! :)

    1. Dear Suze,
      it is really true, The Incident of the Forgotten Jackets :-)
      And Son is 30 now - still able to make people gasp (in a good way).

  5. 158 diaries! I don't have even one anymore, though I know I kept them long ago. We are all so different--I love your style, yet I have none and am perfectly happy with it. It's what makes the world go 'round, isn't it?

  6. Dear Sue,
    I started very early to write. Do you miss your diaries or repent throwing them away? I read those about childhood and schooltime quite often, those about the 18 years we raised our son too, but very, very seldom those inbetween. (At the moment those are in a special room on the attic in Hildesheim).
    I agree: life would be dull if we were all the same - variety is so inspiring!