Memories.

I'm back home after a great week stay in Annapolis. As I unzip my suitcase and re-settle into my old room, I can't help but notice a pile of paper scraps scribbled with notes and quotes from my visit.

• I've noticed Grandpa likes to use two words in particular when speaking: "tremendous" and "theoretically."
  
• During the winter of 1944, Grandpa was taken by the Nazis at the time of the razia (or razzia in Dutch). From 29 December '44 - 25 July '45, Grandpa was a prisoner of war and forced laborer for the Germans. One afternoon during tea, Grandpa called led me into his office and handed me a passport-size leather bound book. On the front, worn gold letters read SOLDBUCH (German for "soldier's small book"). I flipped open to the first page and saw a black and white photo of Grandpa. He was barely 21. Authorities had stamped a swastika (sickening to look at) over the photo in order to attach it to the yellowish page. Someone had scribbled Holländer below his photo. Overnight, Grandpa had lost all of his belongings. Hundreds of other Dutchmen faced the same fate. Grandpa lived in an empty German military base and wore an old German uniform as his only piece of clothing. The Nazis put him on a train which ran across Germany for many weeks. During these trips by train with other forced laborers, the train was bombed by Allied forces (unaware that POW's were riding inside). One of his last assignments was to dig huge holes and clean up areas that had been bombed.
  
• As a POW and forced laborer in the middle of a bitter winter, Grandpa told me that his whole conception of right and wrong shifted temporarily. Stealing became a necessity. Grandpa and dozens of other men and boys taken by the Nazis snuck into a train car carrying packages for Nazi soldiers. He says he recalls breaking open one box and finding a loaf of raisin bread. Most likely, a package from a mother to her son on the battlefield (fighting for the Axis powers). Grandpa took the bread and left the package. Did he feel bad about it? "No." he said. Actually, Grandpa's timing was perfect: "A few hours later, a bomb was dropped by Allied forces on the train in which we rode. The car carrying mail and packages for German soldiers was destroyed. We found the food just in time..."
  
• After the war, people labeled the men and boys who were taken by the Nazis during the razia as traitors. Grandpa told his story to a local minister who wrote a formal letter explaining that Grandpa had in fact been forced into the German Luftwaffe - in other words: involuntarily. Grandpa said he did this as a precaution, especially given his interest in moving to the USA and starting a career there. He let me examine the minister's letter, which he had saved all this time.
  
• Grandpa is the bravest, most courageous man I've ever known. In the wake of the violence, starvation, and death that enveloped World War II Nazi-occupied Holland, Grandpa looks back on his time as a POW with a flicker of optimism. "It was hard to be away from home, not knowing really what would become of us," Grandpa said. He continued - shocking me with his positive spirit: "During my time in Germany, however, I was really able to improve my German." WHAT? I think this is the ultimate example of turning something ugly, painful, and terrible into something useful. I can learn a lot from my Grandpa's strength and endurance.
  
• Grandpa grew up really poor. In fact, his parents were so poor that they actually gave my Grandpa away to be cared for by another family until his father earned enough money to feed two other mouths aside from his own (at that time, Grandpa's mother was living in Holland) Grandpa recalls meeting his younger brother for the first time years later.
  

bisous.

How are you spending New Year's Eve?

I'm spending it with my grandparents and this guy: André Rieu. Currently he's playing Plaisir d'amour ("the joys of love") and charming tv and live audience viewers alike. My grandparents like him a lot; perhaps because he is Dutch but also because he's a genuine and passionate violinist. Although there are those who think his concerts are too "over the top" and sappy, I think they are fun.

Brace yourself: we're gearing up for a wild New Year's Eve celebration of eating Frito's, sipping peppermint tea & sparkling grape juice, and snacking on emmental cheese. It's sure to be a raving event. Already Grandma is singing on the top of her adorable lungs -- good gracious! After dinner (trout baked with white grapes and dill, potatoes and beans, and the best white wine I've ever had -- of Germany, "Blue Nun"), Grandpa read out of Grandma's old diary. While translating the Dutch, he burst with laughter!

It's a beautiful thing to watch an 87-year-old man melt in giggles. I think it's good for the heart and spirit :)

Enjoy ringing in the new year! May it be happy, healthy, and the very best one yet.

Bonne année and Gelukkig nieuwjaar.
gros bisous.

A walk in the woods.

Grandpa and I. The hat he wears is one I bought for him from the State Department.
When I think of Grandpa, this image is burned into my memory. He always walks with his hands clasped behind like this.
Trailblazers: together for 64 years.
Two girls bundled up and ready for an adventure.
Taking a rest on a bench after walking nearly a mile.

Last few quotes from 2010

• "Your visit this week has really been a joy for me. My spirits have been perked up, and I feel so much better having you around..." -Grandma, while speeding off to the grocery store this morning. I nearly melted.
  
• "You could enter a beauty contest, Lissie." -adorable Grandpa. He was downloading photos of Grandma and me from his digital camera.
  
• "Are we havin' fun yet?" -Grandma. She asks this every few hours - whether we're at the mall, exploring a park, in the kitchen - you name it. Grandma likes to have fun 24/7.
  
• "I'm beginning to look wrinkly..." -Grandma, as she looked at photos from our walk in the woods.
  
• "When you get old like us, you are entitled to day-long fun." -Grandpa.
• "This is beginning to deteriorate into work..." -Grandma. We hit a muddy spot in our walk in the woods and she had to find a walking stick and edge down a hill with precision and balance. Grandma became quite anxious - the ground is muddy from melting snow and on more than one occasion she almost slipped - but I held her delicate hand and we endured the walk together.
  
• We serve only lekker stuff around here..." -Grandma, referring to the meals she cooks for Grandpa. Lekker means "delicious" or "tasty" in Dutch.
  
• "What do you call those ropes that hang and you can sit on them...?" -Grandpa, trying to find the English expression for a playground swing. Grandpa said he used to enjoy playing on these as a kid.
  
• "Come and getttt ittttt!!!!" -Grandma -- as she calls for dinner! I'd better run off, but I'll share more soon.

bisous.

NYE

I am enjoying some hot tea and cookies after a nice afternoon walk with oma and opa. We explored some paths in the woods surrounding Annapolis High School, just a few minutes away from their neighborhood. My camera batteries have been dead from the start, so I snapped a few photos with Grandpa's camera.

This morning I went to the grocery store with Grandma. We spent an hour and a half milling around the store, finding items that Grandma is running low on and thinking ahead for what ingredients she'll need for cooking dinners this week. We also set out to find something fun to eat tonight for New Year's Eve. I steered the cart (a kartje in Dutch) to aisle 10, where hundreds of bags of pretzels, crackers, and other snacky food were on display. After much deliberation and scrutiny, Grandma tossed a bag of Frito's into the cart. "We'll try these, Lissie," she said. Grandma claims she only buys junk food (ie. chips, crackers, "packages" and packaged food) once every two years. I find this assertion to be a slight exaggeration; Grandma and Grandpa buy 4 packages of cookies per week on average. I suppose cookies comprise their own food group and merit daily consumption. Lesson #1 from the Dutch.

While looking for gouda cheese towards the end of our grocery store run, a store employee approached us and inquired if we needed any help finding what we needed. Grandma asserted: "No, no, we are fiiiiine, we don't need any help knowing our cheeses." The employee, rather taken aback, apologized gently. I thanked her for her thoughtfulness, noting that she looked a little uncomfortable. Grandma next began to teach the store employee all about the plethora of European cheeses present on the shelf before us. "Why don't you have light EDAM cheese?" Grandma asked. The young employee began to stammer a response, but Grandma continued. "Edam isn't just the name of a cheese -- it is foremost a Dutch city that lies north of Amsterdam and along the coast of the Markermeer..." Haha. You can always learn something new when you hang out with Grandma.

When we arrived home, I finished the vacuuming in the living room and set the table for lunch. Grandma took a nap. Before our meal, Grandpa showed me many of his diaries and journals from when he was a kid (more to share about that later). It made me excited to examine these journals because I find I am learning more and more Dutch and remembering a lot of vocabulary. One day, I hope to be able to translate my grandpa's writings.

bisous.

Adventures continue.

Currently Watching: Charlie Brown on abc with Grandpa... so cute.

I just finished washing today's dishes with scalding hot water. My fingers feel like raisins, but they won't prevent me from documenting a few more adventures in Annapolis.

• Grandpa and I examined the lyrics to Holland's national anthem ("Het Wilhelmus"), which is apparently the oldest anthem in the world. And folks, it is l-o-n-g! Good gracious, I think you must have to eat extra cookies to keep singing for such a long time.
  
• Grandma goes to exercise class Monday-Thursday at the community lodge. She calls it her "stomping" class. The class is comprised of a sequence of movements well-suited for elderly people - lots of stretching, light cardio, and dance-oriented exercises. I think the best part of the class is the music: cute songs from the 1950's and 60's. "Fever" (Peggy Lee), "Norman" (Sue Thompson), "Young at Heart" (Frank Sinatra), "Make Love to Me" (Jo Stafford), etc. Grandma sings a long to most of them while hopping around the room. She says one time a lady "shhhh'd" her. In her opinion, this was the ultimate insult! haha.
  
• Most of the community exercise class participants are women, but the other day a man showed up. Grandma says he sings in the neighborhood chorale with her (Grandma knows pretty much everyone here). During one exercise, we were following the instructor's lead and doing a simple yoga move: the "cobra." I glanced over my shoulder to see the one man in the room (obviously bored) doing push-ups. I suppose even at 85, it's good to assert your masculinity. :)
  
• One of Grandma's neighbors survived a Holocaust concentration camp. She attends the exercise class and is a native of Poland. When the war ended and the camp was liberated by US forces, she met and fell in love with one of the American soldiers. The couple eventually married and moved to the States. I think Grandma sums it up pretty well: "Everyone's life story is a gem."
  
• To fix the suspicious gash on Grandma's car and replace a damaged bumper light, we took the car to Goodyear down the road. It turned out to be a comedic adventure. Anytime Grandma is in public, she makes a spectacle. After surrendering the car to a few mechanics, we checked out the waiting room. One other customer sat quietly reading a Home Living magazine. The first thing out of Grandma's mouth was: "This is borrrring. What is playing on the hekading? Can we put something more exciting on?" Hekading translates as a "thingamajig" in English. Grandma was referencing the tiny tv in the corner next to a questionable coffee pot. The screen showed a news program and weather forecast, but Grandma craved one of her usual gameshows. "Where is the thingy?" Grandma said, edging closer to the tv. Now she was looking for the remote. "Grandma, I don't know if we can change the channel..." I said. I handed her a magazine. Bad idea. I had absentmindedly given her a People magazine, chock full of scandalous photos and Hollywood gossip. The cover featured a buff and shirtless Zac Effron. "Good gracious, why doesn't he put a shirt on? He must think he's somethin' special, parading around like that..." Grandma exclaimed in her thick Dutch accent with rolled r's. I heard a soft snort from the woman waiting in the corner. After an hour or so, Grandma's car was like new and we sped home for coffee and a lunch of vegetable soup and cookies.
  

groetjes.

Dutch joke (I included a translation).

Marc: "Iedere keer als ik naar bed ga, denk ik dat er iemand onder zit. Ik ben bang. Ben ik gek of...?"
Dokter: "Kom een jaar lang in behandeling bij mij, 3 keer per week, en we zullen er wel in slagen om die angsten te bedwingen."
Marc: "Hoeveel rekent u daarvoor aan?"
Dokter: "50 euro per bezoek."
Marc: "Ik zal erover nadenken"
Maanden later belt de dokter: "Wel Marc, waarom ben je nooit meer langsgekomen?"
Marc: "Dirk genas me voor 10 euro."
Dokter: "Is dat zo? En hoe heeft hij dat gedaan, als ik vragen mag?"
Marc: "Hij zei me dat ik de poten van mijn bed moest zagen! En nu kan er niemand meer onder!"

Marc: "When I go to bed, I always feel that there is someone hiding underneath. Whew, I'm terrified. Can you help me?"
Doctor: "I would advise a year-long treatment - simply come by my office three times a week and I'll help you work through your fears."
Marc: "How much do you charge?"
Doctor: "50 euro per visit."
Marc: "Hmm...I will have to think about this. I'll be in touch."
Months later, the Doctor hasn't seen any sign of Marc in his office for treatment, so he gives him a call: "Well, Marc, why don't you come by anymore?"
Marc: "I went to go see Dr. Dirk. He cured me for only 10 euro."
Doctor: Is that so? How did he accomplish that, if you don't mind me asking?
Marc: "He told me to saw off the legs of my bed... a simple fix! No one can hide under it anymore..."