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My hero
I wrote this a while ago but I had to share it again ....
Otta (= German version of grandfather), the father of my mother. The most patient grandfather in the world. I think I drove him nuts with my questions, especially WHY?? We had a routine, on each Sunday morning (to give my mom some space), Otta took me for a ride in town, we went on a bus drive around the city and he showed me old building, told me stories of his youth. He never got tired of answering me questions. And somehow he always managed to answer them. One question I remember pretty well: how is butter made? Why of milk? Where does milk come? and so on and so forth. I miss him a lot. Unfortunately he died 10 years ago but he always will be in my heart. In a way I will never forgive me for not saying good bye. He died while I was on a business trip and I was not there. Miss you Otta! Miss your blue eyes looking towards me!
Otta (= German version of grandfather), the father of my mother. The most patient grandfather in the world. I think I drove him nuts with my questions, especially WHY?? We had a routine, on each Sunday morning (to give my mom some space), Otta took me for a ride in town, we went on a bus drive around the city and he showed me old building, told me stories of his youth. He never got tired of answering me questions. And somehow he always managed to answer them. One question I remember pretty well: how is butter made? Why of milk? Where does milk come? and so on and so forth. I miss him a lot. Unfortunately he died 10 years ago but he always will be in my heart. In a way I will never forgive me for not saying good bye. He died while I was on a business trip and I was not there. Miss you Otta! Miss your blue eyes looking towards me!
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