I went to the International Market and totally stocked up on German goodies. Haribo of course, milchreis, (not to mention the lebkuchen and apfelsaftschorle, of course), spaetzle...I decided that I miss Germany. I didn't think I would. Kandern more than Berlin, I think. Berlin was excellent because of the history, but Kandern was so beautiful, quiet. The Schwarzwald bordering everywhere we looked, it was something I really wish I could see again.
But anyway, no more sadnesses, I'm just going to instead eat myself into a state of joy with these goodies. I love the International Market.
You know, again, the feeling of betrayal. In November my parents and I came to an understanding: being adopted doesn't make me any less German. I can't erase my past (as much as I'd like to sometimes), and so there's no point pretending it didn't exist. So in the past few months I've been indulging in German heritage, I'm not sure why. Language, food, culture. Is that a bad thing? Is it a betrayal? Being adopted doesn't make me less German but embracing that aspect of my heritage doesn't make me any less a part of my family. I was chosen. That means something. It's deeper than blood.
The Gumdrop Stage of Grief ...
3 years ago
No comments:
Post a Comment