Sharing With Our Loved Ones

Caroline Wise and Jutta Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

We are all rendered helpless at least twice in our lives: birth and death. Yet, at birth, we are tenderly cared for with love, attention, and laws that attempt to ensure our successful transition into a functionally competent young adult who will be ready to contribute to our society. Approaching death, we are often alone without the love or the attention of our families or our friends, as they may already be gone, or they, too, are suffering the isolation that plagues our later years.

From the wealthy enclave of Santa Barbara, California, to Europe’s banking capital in Frankfurt, Germany, we all too often find the elderly are a burden and frustration while we have all benefited from these parents and workers who probably did the best they could while they were young and able. But in our impatience, we are quick to satisfy our own needs with an indulgence verging on the obscenely vulgar while at the same time seeing the needs of the elderly as unreasonable.

How do we justify ignoring these vigor-impaired people who were once so important to our very existence? How do others live with themselves as they reveal their anger or disdain in the way they treat these people nearing the ends of their lives, as though they are but nuisance obligations that no longer deserve respect?

The negligence we offer the elderly while lavishing doting care and affection on dogs and cats is an abomination of our broken social contract that allows us to merrily put on display our shallowness by only embracing the young and beautiful, in addition to the cute and furry. If it weren’t for the fact that most of us will suffer the pains of time, maybe then I could understand that a fringe was being sacrificed for the betterment of the whole, but these people who paved the way for us are our future, they are who we will be someday.

Alone and often depressed in their private lives, they bloom in smiles and laughter when once again they find themselves in a setting with their friends and family, even when enduring the pain and hardship of illness or loss that has brought them into the situation of being hospitalized or placed in hospice. Where were we when they needed us to help ensure they wouldn’t hurt themselves? What of the societal responsibility to protect them from inadvertent self-abuse through their own neglect?

For a moment, one can find hope in the despairing moments our elderly loved ones spend in hospitals and rehabilitation centers as we once again see their spirit and ability to fit in with those around them. But all too soon, they will find themselves returned to the lonely isolation that distanced them from our ideas of normal. They are not to blame, just as an infant cannot take responsibility for their own helplessness. Babies have not yet made friends, nor can they communicate very effectively in a complex world they have yet to comprehend. On the other hand, the elderly are trying to comprehend a world that has become faster and more advanced in the complexities that often exceed their abilities. Do we help these people or push them to the side?

Too often, our own sense of responsibility to ourselves leaves us with the easy and selfish choice of tossing these once productive and caring people to the curb of obscurity to die alone after suffering a growing sense of failure; why else are they now alone in a world that works best when we are laughing and sharing in our success?

My mother-in-law is a survivor of World War II and, as a young girl, had to deal with the hunger and destruction of the country she was born in, along with the death of her brother in battle and the subsequent abuse from a mother who suffered too with the incomprehensible loss. Now, after the war, she is at the mercy of those around her who try to find the time to share with her while she’s losing her sense of place and likely her home so others may care for her and her encroaching weakness.

During her early life, she studied medicine and gave life to two girls: my wife and her sister. She helped countless others who were in desperate need of life-saving services in her capacity while working for the local blood donor service. Not only are those who give blood of importance to the ill and critically hurt, but those who make it their life’s work to accept these donations enable the conduit between those who are in need and those who work tirelessly to save lives. And yet most of her days are now spent with a newspaper or television. Some of her friends have already passed. Guilt tells her that her needs are not important; one mustn’t burden those who are entangled with lives that surely have no time for someone becoming frail of mind and or body.

This sweet woman needs little more than a buttered bread and her family’s love. Other sweet old ladies have trouble getting either. Even on those occasions when my mother-in-law is, for a moment, the center of attention, I know this will be short-lived, not only because we will return to our “busy” lives but because she can no longer be in this life much longer.

I do not know with any precision how much longer she will be with us, but I do have to face that within weeks, she’ll again be alone. When she’s gone, we, too, will be a little more alone as the cycle of our own aging process moves us closer to the lonely door of death.

Frankfurt To Bad Soden

Caroline Wise, Jutta Engelhardt, and John Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

The day starts like our previous ones, up early with a cold gray sky peeking through the windows; when does winter end here? This will be the second time we’ve used our rather expensive rental car, although it was the cheapest we could find. A bit of warning to travelers to Europe: be sure you bring proof of international insurance coverage, add it to your policy, or just take the trains because it will cost you about $600 when you show up to pick up the car. As has been our routine, we go to see Jutta, but we’ll only visit once this day as we have a dinner date later in the day.

Badehaus (bath house) in Bad Soden, Germany

Having been away for so long, we have lost our ability to judge distances, and our memories tell us that Bad Soden is quite far away. Turns out that it’s really close. So close, in fact, that we arrive in town more than an hour early. No problem for us, we’ll just take a tour of the city center. Driving around to look for a starting point, we pass the old Badehaus (Bath House), and Caroline nearly yells for me to stop. Great, there’s a parking place right here in front of the park. The baths themselves appear to be gone, having been replaced with galleries. I say apparently because that half of the building is undergoing renovation, the other side is a library now. No matter, the grounds and buildings are beautiful. Not so nice is a fountain that offers some of the famous waters noted for their life-affirming qualities. Maybe others have a taste for heavily sulfured water, but my brain was having nothing to do with this idea of swallowing my small handful. Instead, instinct kicked in, forcing my mouth to disgorge the fetid-smelling, wretched-tasting stuff. I required a concerted effort to describe this without relying on vulgarities.

An old Fackwerkhaus (half timbered house) in Bad Soden, Germany

As we walked around, we noticed a trail going up a hillside, hoping for a view overlooking the town or even Frankfurt in the distance; we started the short hike upwards. At the top, there is an old brick tower, not of much purpose other than as a kind of monument, but to what we couldn’t figure out. We are also surrounded by trees, so there is no view to be had. Back down the hill, we passed the Badehaus on our way to the downtown area.

A monument noting those who died in World War's I and II from Bad Soden, Germany

We never made it downtown. On the way, Caroline spots a sign pointing to a small castle. Turns out not to be much of a castle at all, but more a large home, though not without bragging rights. A sign on the building lets us know that König Wilhelm I. Von Württenberg slept here in 1852; a König is a King. Not very impressed, as we’ve both seen real castles, we head back across the park. Along the way, nearly fully surrounded by trees, I spot a small monument with a soldier on top that notes the men who died during World War I and II who had come from Bad Soden. Having spent enough time wandering about, it was time to make our date.

Caroline Wise and Helga Hennemann in Bad Soden, Germany

On the way into town, we passed the street Helga lives on, and within just a few minutes, we’re back at that corner and parking the car. Caroline’s godmother lives on the fifth floor in a building without an elevator, and she’s in her early 70’s. I was surprised how, after the first 20 minutes the conversation and rapport started to work, and the time between visits started being erased. Helga is a fiercely independent, very interesting, strong-minded woman. Back when Caroline was 16 she had told her godmother how she never wanted to be a workaholic like Helga. Almost 30 years later Caroline can easily consider this woman as one of the single greatest influences on her own life. Helga never married, but that wasn’t due to a lack of interest in this successful woman, she was busy with her career and seeing the world, which she is currently still actively doing. Our meeting had to be sooner than later, as this weekend she is heading to Spain for a week away from it all, and then in July, she’s off to Rome. Over a fantastic dinner of roast duck breast with mixed veggies and potatoes, we toasted our reunion and talked until it was close to midnight. During the night, we learned much about Helga we didn’t know, such as her 40th birthday, where she rented an entire riverboat, invited 150 of her closest friends, hired a band, and cruised the Main River as she danced into the beginnings of her 40s. With recommendations of which art exhibits to pay attention to during our visit to Frankfurt and her request that we try and meet another time before we return to the States, we wished each other good night. Walking down the five flights of stairs, Caroline and I were all smiles as we felt that Helga could still be a great role model and mentor to not only her goddaughter but to me, too.

Angel Hearts

Oh my, this morning came on fast. Everyone was awake by 5:00 a.m., as Katharina had to be at school by 5:30 for a 6:00 departure for the 12 to 14-hour drive across Germany and France before getting on a ferry for the trip between Calais and Dover across the North Sea. Later today, she’ll be settling in with her host family in Eastbourne in the south of England.

Stephanie Engelhardt, Jutta Engelhardt, and Caroline Wise - this is the first picture of these three together since Jutta's daughters became adults. Frankfurt, Germany

Spent the better part of the day with family, the first half with Jutta. Stephanie was able to join us today, as Mondays are her day to work for family needs. First up, though, we had to go to Jutta’s apartment to collect some clean clothes and pick up her laundry that needed washing. The reason for the fresh change is that Jutta is moving to a rehabilitation facility tomorrow morning. But before Caroline and I joined Stephanie for chores, we went over to Bergerstrasse to a small meat market (Metzgerei Zeiss) where, a couple of days prior, I had discovered the tasty joy of the Schweinebauch Brot (pork belly sandwich) and I needed another. Back at the apartment, we sorted some things we were considering bringing back to the States with us and then helped Stephanie fill Jutta’s bags. When the three of us finally arrived at the hospital, one could see that Jutta’s smile was reaching new heights of happiness. It has been more than 18 years since Jutta has seen her two girls together, and this is the first photo of the three of them together since her daughters were little girls.

After spending some hours with my mother-in-law, it was time to go visit Stephanie’s mother-in-law. Christa is Stephanie’s husband, Klaus’s mother; she is in hospice. Christa has heard much about Caroline and me from Jutta due to all of her adventures with us in the United States and wanted to meet us. In celebration of being in hospice, Christa has thrown away caution and embraced some old bad habits that are making this life transition a little easier, so we brought cigarettes. A small bottle of wine was sitting by the door to her balcony. I loved this woman’s smile and her attitude that lets her have a bit of smoke and drink, followed by a shot of oxygen. We didn’t get to spend much time with Christa, but I’m happy to have had to opportunity to meet my brother-in-law’s mother.

Inside Adolf Wagner restaurant in Sachsenhausen, Germany

After this visit, it was back to Bürger Hospital to see Jutta once more. By dinner time, we asked for a restaurant recommendation, and Jutta suggested Zum Gemalten Haus – The Painted House. We drove over to Sachsenhausen to find the place closed on Mondays; bummer. Just a few doors down was another restaurant, and it was offering Apfelwein (Apple Wine). This is usually a good sign that the place will be serving traditional German fare. We checked out the menu that, like all German restaurants, is posted outside and thought the menu looked appealing enough that we decided on eating at Adolf Wagner’s seemed like it would be a good choice. Sure enough, it was. Time to get back to Stephanie’s place to let Caroline try and get some work done before going to sleep far too late.

Another Day In Germany

Katharina Engelhardt and her aunt Caroline Wise in Frankfurt, Germany

Meet Katharina Engelhardt, our niece. Last night was our first time meeting her face-to-face; she wasn’t here when we arrived, as Klaus and Katharina had been in Fulda for the past week, so she could go horseback riding. Katharina is in love with horses, seriously in love. Stephanie had stayed back to be able to deal with Jutta being in the hospital, her mother-in-law is in hospice, and our arrival. Katharina is now 12, with a little over a month until she reaches her teens. Getting this photo was no easy task; the girl is shy. Hopefully, we’ll have more time getting to know her after she returns from her week-long trip to England.

Outside of Stephanie and Klaus's home in Frankfurt, Germany

While family Engelhardt gets ready for Katharina’s trip and spends some time together today, Caroline and I head out to visit Jutta. With deep blue skies and the day warming quickly, it starts to feel like springtime. We even see some buds sprouting on trees and bushes. As is typical in Germany, we are taking a walk to fetch the car. It’s not uncommon to have to park relatively far away; available parking is at a premium here, and the later one hunts for a spot, the further away they’ll be.

Caroline Wise and Jutta Engelhardt in Frankfurt, Germany

We spent a good part of the morning into the afternoon with Jutta, with the highlight being that Jutta was getting around so well that we took her for a treat. While Jutta has made steady progress going from walking to her room door to down the hall and two days ago took her first steps on stairs, we thought she might be doing well enough to take her up two floors to the cafeteria. On the 8th floor of the hospital, we are offered a great, nearly 180-degree view of Frankfurt, and with the weather cooperating, the view is spectacular. But the best view is right here at our table, Jutta getting around and the three of us sharing a slice of warm apple strudel with ice cream on a Sunday. In some ways, it feels like we were never away from Germany.

Frog crossing in the Frankfurt City Forest - Germany

Official frog crossing sign announcing that every year between February 14 and March 31 this path through the forest becomes an amphibian highway. We are asked to respect the frog’s walk in the woods, just as they respect ours the rest of the year. We ended up out here in the forest after driving randomly through Frankfurt with the idea of looking around for other familiar sights.

Looking up a forked trail in the Frankfurt City Forest - Germany

The road we wandered down is a narrow one that connects the town of Neu-Isenberg with Frankfurt. The last time I was on this stretch was about 26 years ago, after my daughter Jessica was born. Her mom and I took our first apartment in Neu-Isenberg, and this was how we would travel to Frankfurt. Caroline’s last time here was ten years before that when she went to Oberschweinstiege. This 130-year-old restaurant sits on the edge of the Jacobi pond in the Frankfurt City Forest. Caroline ate with her grandfather Christian Engelhardt some Saturday or Sunday afternoon when she was just ten years old. We make a note to return here before going back to America.

Henninger Turm in Frankfurt, Germany

This is Henninger Turm, an old tower that will start to be torn down tomorrow. It’s a landmark for the Henninger beer maker that has been an icon on the Frankfurt skyline for decades. Sadly it is too old and would be too expensive to renovate, so down it will come. The tower is on the edge of Sachsenhausen, soon to be “was” there.

Katharina, Caroline, Stephanie, and Klaus sitting down to Grune Sose in Frankfurt, Germany

Klaus made us a special dinner tonight, homemade Grüne Sosse. Somehow, Katharina doesn’t like this Frankfurt tradition and will instead simply have a couple of eggs for dinner. Lucky for us, that means there is more for Steph, Caroline, Klaus, and me. While I now have first-hand knowledge about making Grüne Sosse, the ingredients are nearly impossible to come by in the States. Our stay with the Engelhardt family is turning out to be a great one; they have made their home ours for our stay.

Verde Railroad With Jutta

Oak Creek Canyon, Arizona

Well, here we are witnessing incredible southwestern beauty, but it has sat on a hard drive for ten years, languishing as its bits grew dusty. In my race to excavate things lost and buried from our world of experiences, I grab these memories from our past and bring them forward onto my blog, where they have a better chance of seeing the light of day or beaming their light into our eyeballs at some random time in the future. I’m writing this on February 26, 2022, with absolutely no notes to stoke the memory about particular details, but no matter, as better that something’s here instead of nothing.

Oak Creek Canyon, Arizona

At first glance at these old photos, I couldn’t figure out the logic of heading up to Sedona and Oak Creek Canyon, although seeing the landscape covered in snow is a serious great reason how’d we fit this in before the train ride on the Verde Canyon Railroad in Clarkdale?

Oak Creek Canyon, Arizona

I figured it out by visiting their website, which shows that here in the winter, the train doesn’t depart until 1:00 in the afternoon. That set things up perfectly to drive a little further north for some snowy tourism in our Red Rock Canyon area.

Oak Creek Canyon, Arizona

True that my mother-in-law visits Arizona from Germany at this time of year to avoid the bitter cold of Frankfurt, not that it’s all that bitter there, but escaping the grey days is a luxury. Seeing snow in this area of Arizona is also a luxury because that certainly doesn’t occur every year.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

Not long after our train left the depot we were passing this old Sinagua Indian Ruin and were already traveling into the past.

Caroline Wise and Jutta Engelhardt on the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

If Jutta had thought we’d be in the warm comfort of one of the cars with seats and hot coffee, she was wrong, as it’s from out here in the open air that the sights appear closer.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

Random splashes of sunlight all morning are giving us hope that the overcast gray skies might open wider, lending more dramatic views to the already incredible landscape.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

We’ll only be out here about 3.5 hours but could easily see enjoying a multi-day scenic meander across any part of America if only our rail lines didn’t have to compete with commercial traffic and land in big cities.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

Intimate and slow, just the way we enjoy life.

Caroline Wise and Jutta Engelhardt on the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

Bundled up from head to toe, Jutta was hanging tough with us outside in the cattle car.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

Haven’t I seen these types of rock layers in the Grand Canyon before?

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

Approaching our turnaround point.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

The old rail stop in Perkinsville, Arizona, is effectively the end of the line for us, except we are not being dropped off here to find our way back; the train will reverse and return us to Clarkdale.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

It may not be as grand as the giant canyon north of here, but that doesn’t mean it’s not worth the visit. Everyone who lives in Arizona should take this scenic half-day trek into a corner of Arizona where no paved roads go.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

Our route hugs the Verde River for the majority of our time out here.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

No matter if water isn’t always flowing in the river bed, the canyon we are traveling through is always beautiful.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

More of that beloved sun, which, when it spills onto the landscape, changes the entire view of things so that the way back seemed like an entirely different place.

On the Verde Canyon Railroad in Arizona

Then, seeing this stuff, how’d I miss the ruins of some mining operation that has been shored up so the train can continue its run?

View from Jerome, Arizona

The train ride is done, and we are hungry so what better to do than take the short 10-minute drive over to the old mining town of Jerome for some hot food?

Jutta Engelhardt and Caroline Wise in Jerome, Arizona

And here we are at the Quince Grill & Cantina for a Mexican-inspired dinner and enough alcohol that Jutta would be out front after our meal singing an old German song. Another great day out on the trail of adventure.