Even though I always look forward to visits from friends and family, there is always just a little bit of apprehension. I try to make sure that the flat is cleaned and up to scratch, but sometimes wonder if the inspection will pass muster. Making sure that my folks (or any visitor, for that matter) gets settled without too many language barriers is also a little bit of a concern. Above all, I certainly want everyone to enjoy themselves in my neighborhood.
The longer that I have lived here, this anxiety has diminished a lot, but still kinds of persists, typically when it comes to organizing dinners and particularly with translating menus to make sure that everyone finds something that they want (and can) eat.
This year, my father arrived with a couple of close family friends, and almost immediately was very apparent that this was going to be a very relaxed visit. After checking into their hotel close to my flat, Dad, Dan and Nan came over to my place. We got the hugs and greetings out the way, as well as the handover of the dark chocolate peanut butter cups; I had made a small request for several packages to be brought over.
The weather was brilliant, if not just a tad warm (for late April), but it meant that the next several days we would be able to spend a lot of time outside doing whatever we wanted. Everyone got quickly settled into the neighborhood. Dad and Dan spent most mornings having a coffee and roll at the bakery close by their hotel. They would later do a bit of walking around the city once Nan was up and about. Drinks at the pub (or wherever) were the norm by late afternoon/early evening, during which time my guests all got to meet most of my friends and Kumpels in the neighborhood.
As always, my friends were glad to greet friends/family of mine, and although my father is quite well known already, everyone really took to my friends who were visiting for the first time. Likewise, Dan and Nan responded graciously; our Tonne group got quite large for several days as we all gathered outside the pub at the barrel.
We celebrated my birthday at a local tapas bar with Nadja, and it was quite the enjoyable evening to enjoy some laughs, wine, and good food and company. Even though I am not really a big birthday guy, I have always really appreciated it when my folks would make a real effort to be in town on my day, and this year, being a little bit special, was all the more meaningful.
So the week went by quickly:beers and cocktails out and about, brats on the marketplace, gelato at the Eis Cafe, and quite a bit of German cuisine, as Dan and Nan did not really come to Frankfurt to eat Italian or Asian food. This is rather understandable for someone who has never travelled to Germany before.
In a flash, the week came to an end, and Dan and Nan prepared for their return to the states. Dad was gong to stay on another week. We had a last quick beer at the pub last Sunday evening, and during our goodbyes, I was really touched by Dan and Nan's kind words: they had a wonderful time hanging out with me and my father, in my neighborhood, meeting my friends.
Last Monday, the start of my father's second week of his visit, he came over to my house mid morning, and we spent pretty much the whole day just drinking coffee and chatting. Chatting about how fun the previous week had been, as well as catching up on all events happening either side of the ocean in our lives. It was so relaxing, neither one of us had any set agenda, and we actually talked so long that we almost forgot about lunch. In the end, we settled on a late late lunch/early supper at a little place down the street, before meeting up with the guys at the Kiosk as part of our Monday evening routine. It seemed so perfectly natural, and I was appreciative of my friends who have to make an effort to speak in English, but they take it in stride and I am glad that they accept those extensions of my side of the world without question. (True, it does help when my guests are nice people...all the more easy to get along with someone).
Most of the week was spent similar to our Monday. We simply just visited with each other, talking about so many different topics. One on one father time is something I have always cherished, and usually I get my chances with him when I am visiting the states over Christmas; early mornings with a cup of coffee. Obviously, last Christmas was a complete blur and we did not really have that opportunity.
It's funny, we both have similar ways of communicating, between both ourselves and with others. Several times during the week while we were out and about, I overheard him relating a story to someone and I realized that I was telling almost the identical story to someone else in a separate conversation. We seem to be on a very similar wave length most of the time, and even though this is really nothing new, it made it all the more special for me during this visit. We both regularly commented on how relaxed we felt.
I really enjoyed seeing my father interact with my friends. Dad is a pretty good conversationalist and has his really funny moments of wit. One guy who I don't know all that well made a passing comment to my father about how he had tried to get his own parents to fly over to visit him, even offering them first class tickets. My father quipped, "Well, I am happy to let you fly me over here in first class."
That cracked me up.
I still find that I am not only still learning about my father, but I am still learning FROM my father, and that is just a really great feeling. I know how proud my father is of me, even though he does not always need to say the words. Likewise, I am equally proud of him, as a father, a man, and a friend.
A few of us gathered at the pub last evening for a last little time together. The weather was pleasant, the company was good, and all of it helped bring a wonderful visit to a close.
I never like good-byes, and this one was particularly emotional. Dad and I had a big hug together, shed a few tears, then he walked on up the hill back to his hotel.
His flight took off about half an hour ago, and I stood on my balcony and looked up at the sky to see if I could see his airplane. It's been kind of a melancholic start to the day, but I was glad to stand there with my coffee and smile.
What a great couple of weeks.
Thanks, Dad. See you soon.
bryan
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