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Thursday, September 10, 2009

Smoke

It has now been over 6 months since my (step)Dad, Holger, died unexpectedly of a heart attack. He was definitely one of those people who you would think was going to live forever, or at least certainly not die so young (he was only 48).

I'm sure my grief is nothing special - many people are really feeling this loss, but my memories of are unique, as experienced by me.

I remember nights on the back porch of whatever house we were living in at the time (we moved a lot), Holger would come out and share beers with me and whatever guy I was dating at the time (hey, remember, moved a lot) and bum cigarettes from us.  I think he enjoyed feeling like he was breaking the rules, remembering the rush of teenage rebellion and of course we were happy for the free and good quality beer versus the usual crap we had.

It was a fair exchange and Holger was always fun company. All of my friends always liked him, even if they were a bit intimidated initially by his height and deep Schwarzeneggeresque voice. I bet many of the guys had images of the bad guys in Die Hard in their heads when they heard his voice on the phone. And his accent wasn't even that strong.

I miss him so terribly much. I have to stop myself from thinking about all of the future events he won't be taking part in. Coen's first Christmas. Johannes getting married. And late night, beer-buzzed and smoky chats on the back porch of whatever house we're living in.

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