Parting is such sweet sorrow

Of all the things I learned on my European pilgrimage, the lesson that makes the most amount of sense to me is that concerning the redeeming power of love. I didn’t know it at the time but I realize the importance of it now, finding love in Europe among the Germans. Before I set out on my adventure I read the poetry of Rainer Maria Rilke that talks of love and longing beautifully and metaphorically illustrated as a rose representing the awakening of the senses – it’s color, it’s scent and it’s fragility.


After posting my last blog, regarding the East- West conflict among brothers, I got an overwhelming response from my friends in Berlin, asking if I plan on returning which put me in a trance recalling the last few days prior to my departure.


When it was time to leave and let the tide of a million lives ebb and flow, Scotsman and fellow actor Paul who refused to call me by my birth name and instead called me Martina, gave me a sci-fi book inscribed it in were loving words to remember.


American opera singer, David originally from Pasadena, gave a sad moan when I told him the news but gave me a blank book to record my thoughts, which I quickly filled with pages of memories.


Elderly neighbor and native Berliner, Frau Bose gave me a cup bearing the city’s mascot- a Bear, as a keepsake of the city I once called home.


Linguist Karen from Washington D. C., cooked me dinner and tried to touch my face when I stopped her, she fell into my arms weeping.


Former German actress turned psychologist Renata came over, took photos, bite her bottom lip and said over and over, “I will miss you”.


Casting director, Benson, from West Hollywood, loyally stoic, helped me pack.


Bostonian Scott, a psychologist, stopped by and proudly announced that he was the architect of my open feelings, and although there was still a road ahead, he then held me close for five minutes while we both sobbed softly. I ran to the window to see him drive until he was a speck in the horizon.


Frenchmen and linguist Paul, gave me a tape of French melodies and made me promise to take better care of my health.


At the airport terminal, East Indian and visual artist Zari smiled when she handed me my gift- a lovely purple and white scarf that she silk screened, her face fell when I said my last goodbye.


Werner hide his distress and I could not talk, there were no words in me, “ I don’t know how to... or how can I …” is all I could utter and, I left a large wet patch of tears on his chest.


Over the last two years, I imagined bounding through the airport doors ecstatic and excited to escape the country, but my legs were heavy and reluctant. The stewardess shook my hand as I’m was about to board the plane, “Good-bye, will you be coming back to Germany?” I wobbled my head in a way to say: yes, no, maybe.


I took my seat, older, wiser, and more cosmopolitan than when I arrived. I felt my soul swell at the sight of leaving the land and the words of Rilke came to mind: “Be patient toward all that is unsolved in your heart and try to love the questions themselves. Live the questions now. Perhaps you will find them gradually, without noticing it, along some distant day into the answer”.