Onkel Karl, my great uncle, (my mom's father's brother), died at age 94- he has been frail and unwell for some years but was independent into his 80's. I haven't seen him for a long time but other family have taken trips back to Germany to visit. I, in a way, know that a last visit would have been for me rather than him (he was really that unwell and not himself I understand) and I am selfishly happy that the last time I saw Onkel Karl he was shouting "Jubilee!" and partying 'til the wee hours.
So, to tell Nolan about his great great uncle: Karl was a widower who was first separated from his wife due to WWII (Berlin, wrong side of wall) then lost her to illness after a they managed to get together again post war. He was a convivial, energetic man who could light up a room and cheer up a disconnected and disaffected group of people- friends or strangers- by the sheer force of his good will. I think he was a man made to have a huge family- he loved his German and overseas siblings, nieces and nephews and their offspring, he loved his friends, and "his" swans on the river in Frankfurt. He had an apartment in an old brick walk up (I think he did 120 or so stairs to and fro into his 80s) and was a neat and correct gentleman who had very defined habits. He drank champagne-daily- and was always smiling, combed, and colour coordinated.
His life was hard, but after the difficulty and trauma of war and loss, I think he was actually content, and he extracted happiness from whatever situation he was in. As a result of that, maybe, he was also talented at creating happiness and celebration for others. As a child I never saw him in a low mood- if anything, as a shy kid, I was awed by his ebullience and larger than life actions. Mom reminded me of one time that he was visiting- I was in my late teens- and we were doing dishes, and he was in the living room....suddenly, music comes on, and he comes and gracefully dances Mom around the kitchen, then takes the somewhat angst ridden, too-cool-for-my-own-skin teen me and dances me into the living room, where we determined that a) no one has ever taught me how to dance- more specifically- how to be led and b) I have two or three left feet, and Onkel Karl had none.
Another good adventure was at the water slides in Kelowna, when Karl accompanied us on a family day trip, and went down the river tube ride with us....it was so funny, and he was so delighted, and would come up laughing a HUGE laugh from submersion....by the end of the trip the whole population of people making their way down the "river" had clustered to be around Karl and enjoy his enjoyment. Really, he had an amazing gift of making everyday events into a party. I can't say specifically that I will miss him as I rarely saw him, but I have an unshakeable love for him and will miss knowing he is out there.
To talk about the other gentlemen of the title: Onkel Bruno, who suddenly passed away a few months ago. Although I saw him less, I think that like his brother Karl, Bruno was also a true gentleman, a man who dealt with life's troubles with grace and humor. He had the gentlest voice I have ever heard, and because of that, as a child I found him the most approachable of the relatives. He was quieter than Karl and maybe sometimes exasperated by his antics- but Bruno could rustle up a few good tricks too. He apparently learned how to swear in English from a British General- captured in WWII, he became a valet. Mom reminded me of seeing Bruno coming home from work (streetcar conductor), looking quite dashing and well tailored in his uniform, having spend the day being cordial to streetcar rider in Frankfurt. I'd be willing to bet that exchanging pleasantries with my gracious and friendly great uncle while having their ticket taken was a high point for many commuters.
Onkel Hugo, I remember less well. He shared the key characteristics of being proper, and orderly, and he was very welcoming in 1981, when he took us to the very excellent Frankfurt Zoo- I apparently was mesmerized by the penguins (I'll bet Hugo appreciated their tailored and formal appearance too!) - but what I remember best is a gift of a family of small ceramic turtles that I had for many years. He was, I think, prone to wearing a navy blazer, white shirt and tie, which set off his distinguished looks. Both Hugo- who was older than my Grampa, and Hubert, who was second youngest, worked at Henninger Brewery. Onkel Hubert was a lot of fun- he would amaze us kids by knocking a glass (the more delicate/expensive looking the better) off of the table, and then catching it before it hit the floor. It seems to me he also could do the tablecloth trick (pulling it out from under a set table) but I may be getting my memories confused.
Finally, I so would have loved Nolan to meet my grampa, his great grandfather, Aloys Wunderlich, brother to Bruno, Karl, and apparently 15 other siblings. Really. Many were lost in childhood in the early 1900s and in the war, but they are survived by my lovely and indomitable Tante Berta. Grampa was temperamentally somewhere between Bruno and Karl- quiet and laid back...but for him, that party happened when the music started, and he'd stay up as late as anybody-creating the music and enjoying the scene (rye and Seven-Up, I think, or peppermint schnapps...). Grampa was a hardworking man who came to Canada as a tall, goodlooking, kind of gangly young man with prominent ears and a tanned face. I always thought that in grandma and grampa's wedding photo, he looks a little nervous, maybe because his bride Helen- a petite, dark haired woman who could cook up a storm- was quite a firecracker of a personality. Anyway.
Grampa was quite precise/proper about how things were done- (this seems to be the theme- nicely combed Prussian men who could party) and his storage area in the back entrance to the house, his tools, and his garden stuff were always impressively organized, by my recollection. With that, he wasn't too uptight though- he never, ever lost his sense of fun. I can remember going biking with him as a kid and he's take his hands off the handlebar AND his feet off the pedals. He'd toss babies in the air to watch them startle and make them giggle. He'd pinch and tickle me and my cousins just above the knee in sneak attacks- and say "Send it down to David" when we were eating....(for the longest time I wondered who David was and why he would need to hang out in people's stomachs.) Grampa could, and would swear in Chinese (learned from the town's restaurateur, whom he called "the chinaman") - and in Ukrainian, and maybe others. He always had time to tease and have fun with kids. It wasn't all teasing though- with his gentleness and love for music, he would also have special quiet times with all the grandkids. For me, special requests to "play us a tune, Nori" while he lay on the couch in our livingroom before supper was a favorite bonding time. I still miss him.
My great uncles and grandpa - all tall (for their time especially), fair, handsome and hardworking- lived in a time that spanned from horse drawn vehicles in routine use to routine air travel, through telephones to computers, and their lives started in the shadow of the Great War and then came close to ending, or were at least terribly altered, by another war. Nolan may never know (I hope) that type of stress and loss of structure and security. I always felt that my German relatives had been so fundamentally changed by the war experiences they suffered that it was a shadow behind everything they did thereafter, but impressively, their love for family and love of life were only strengthened.
Now, I look at my sturdy, slightly fastidious, music loving, shy but "loving the limelight once he's comfortable" little boy and I can see what these Wunderlich men have contributed to him, the way I can see my Dad in Nolan's powerful mental focus and in the set of his head and shoulders, and his Hehir uncles and grandfather in his face, his expressions and his singing. Nolan would have been fascinated by his great great grandfather and his brothers, and I am certain that they would have been delighted with him and his cousins too.
Time moves on and we lose our links to the past- and so, I guess our job is to become the new link to our history and keep memories alive. Hence this post.
