I focus my experiencing and awareness on being
"a   pioneer of  Evolution  in  learning  to  feel":
I let my Body vibrate and my Heart 'womb'
pain, shame, fear, boredom, powerlessness,
so feelings can >heal >guide>fulfill>evolve,
and ~~~ offer ~~~"goldmines"~~~ to us all!!
"I want you to feel everything, every little thing!"

"Driving Backward into the Future" = "Closeups to the Past" = Healing&Harvesting my Past

On July 6, while we sat together on the veranda - Immanuel, Efrat and I,
we somehow remembered Mika's strange behavior during their visit in Arad.
Was it envy? Other mothers, whom Efrat had asked, confirmed this. I said:
"Did I ever tell you the story about my mother's envy of my birthday?"
Immanuel knew the story, but Efrat didn't,
and when I ended she changed my perspective of what had occurred so long ago.


"I was engaged to Martin and since we soon would begin our scholarship year
(on Sept. 6, 1960 each would travel by train and boat, Martin to USA, I to Israel),
it was decided, that my mother and I would spend a week at Frankfurt
with Martin Fincke, his father, his mother and his sister Gertrud,
and later the Finckes would all come to my mother's at Boeblingen for a week.



" They arrived on the eve of my birthday and I begged them to play "it" down,
knowing from experience, that my mother hated it when I was praised.
As usual in my family, my mother played a hymn on the piano and we sang,
and then we gathered around the little table with cake, candles and gifts.
The gifts from Martin's mother were a pretty blue skirt and a blouse.


I wore these a year later, when I used the rest of my scholarship money
to invite my mother for a week to an island in the Italian Lake Orta.


"It was then, that my mother went crazy literally,
she hurriedly packed a few things and ran away....
We all tried to make the best of the situation
- there was also my mother's paying guest, a pupil from France, Jacque!
Martin's father mowed the lawn, and I was cleaning up constantly,
so that my mother wouldn't get mad when she would return.


"Only a few days later we received a postcard:
"I'm there and there" in a village , with peasant people she knew.
Martin and I took some trains to that village and brought her back.
I don't remember what happened then. "

Efrat reacted: "Miskenah!" meaning: "what a pitiable woman".
"There she saw your young happiness with your fiance,
while she, who became a war widow at such a young age,
never had the chance again to be loved and to love."


I was stupefied!
I had interpreted my mother's behavior as envy of being in the center
(at the age of 5 she said to me: "you always want to be the queen!"),
but it was more than envy, it was jealousy coming from abysmal frustration.

"You are so right, Efrat! How didn't I see that until this day?
And how come that you saw it rightaway, though you didn't even know,
that yes
- during the one previous week of Martin staying alone with my mother -
(we always wanted to please and help her!)
she actually fell in love with him
and Martin and I were both devastated about the pain this would cause her.
But at least in my later memory I never connected that birthday behavior
with her - probably strongly denied - feelings for my fiance."

Now that I finally have the strength to write this down (July 13),
I may just as well add that other - immensely painful - memory from 1969:

During my mother's second stay with us in Israel, in May 1967, she had a stroke,
and though - back in Germany - some of the damage was diminuished
and she could go on living by herself for some years,
she was more miserable than ever.
Then in 1969 we all came from Israel - by boat to Italy and rented a car from there
to visit family and friends in Germany.
While we lived for 3 days at a place which was close to my brother's family
(who didn't have room to host us),
hosted by Miss Hartmann, my former beloved teacher of religion,
I got a phone-call from Martin, who at that time lived with his family in Munic.

"I told your mother, that she too is invited to stay with us for a few days
if only you go back to Boeblingen and take her with you !"

Trembling I approached my husband and told him about Martin's plan.
He made a scene which exceeded everything I had experienced with him so far:
"Either your mother or I! you can choose!"
And I, in my usual miserable self-victimization, succumbed.
Oh that shame and that pain!
It seems, that it will never ever leave me....

I asked Miss Hartmann, if I could use her phone,
and since she saw me crying, I needed to tell her what for.
I wished, she had opened my eyes and strengthened me,
but she only said something sad about married couples....
I lied to my mother! And I dragged Martin into it!
I invented a reason why "Martin cannot host you after all! I'm so sorry!"

How could I look into my husband's eyes after that?
Travel with him, lie with him, enjoy our visit with Martin and his family?

I was a master of denial then,
and I'm sorry, "God"! but I can NOT forgive myself even after 39 years.
[2013: or after 44 years...!]