Bremerhaven and Zeven with Opa and Ingrid

On Saturday morning I took the train to Bremerhaven, where my grandfather, Hans, and Ingrid live. Bremerhaven is struggling city with high unemployment and dirty streets. Yet Bremerhaven is a special city for me because that’s where my grandfather “Opa” lives. After Plebe year I visited him before Buckner. I couldn’t speak German, and he couldn’t/can’t speak English. It was an awkward time, for many sad reasons.

I remember “saying” goodbye and boarding the plane, disappointed and ashamed that I had been unable to communicate with a member of my family. That fall I selected German to be my major.

Finally I could speak with him; I didn’t even feel like a foreigner; we talked as if we’d known each other for a long time! Ingrid is also such a sweetheart…something I didn’t realize before when we couldn’t communicate.

Man, German (confidence) goes up and down! In my classes at the university, I feel like a little kid. Then, in the trains, I’m jealous of the little kids who speak better German than I do! But with Opa, it was all good.

When we arrived, we walked to a market and got some food. You guessed it…bread, meat and cheese. Staples! We then walked around his quarter of Bremerhaven and along the harbor. There were a lot of old ships and even an old submarine. After that, we enjoyed an ice cream cone…

We dropped off Ingrid as she cooked a firewood dinner and then walked to a internet cafe to call Mom (his daughter) for cheap. It was probably very emotional for him; I asked why they didn't talk longer, and he said that they were all sitting together and having breakfast. We had our candlelight dinner in his flat, and went to bed really early because they were both tired and he doesn’t have a television.

Trying to find the race location on Sunday morning was somewhat of an adventure, but with God’s blessings we made it! Trick: if you’re ever lost…try this- Stop the car, stand in the middle of the road, and ask for help!

He is such a gentlemen: he still tips his hat to the people he meets, looks people in the eye and say’s thank you, and told me that I needed to shave on race day. “Ah Grandpa, I’m just going to go running.” “No, you’ll look better!” He also doesn’t waste a thing.

The half marathon in Zeven was very special. At the finish line, I had the opportunity to honor him for being my grandfather and allowing me to stay with him; he started crying. He also enjoyed the food and beverages provided for the runners post race. I kept going back and forth ferrying him butter cake, soda, juice, apples, and bananas. Finally I said, “Okay Opa, I’m going to shower now. This is my last round…what do you want!“More butter cake,” he said!

It’s always sad to say goodbye to him. But at least this time, unlike two years ago, I could do it all in German.