The other day I came across some notes I made about some conversations in our family towards the end of summer of 1974 when Gaby was sixteen, Monika fifteen, Martin close to fourteen, Peter close to thirty-nine and I also thirty-nine.
ONE AFTERNOON IN FEBRUARY 1974
Gaby, my daughter, sits in her wheelchair in the kitchen close to the open door. Peter, her father, helps her to sort out her record-club order.
I am outside close to the open door. I am stretched out on the lawn under a large umbrella, taking notes of the following conversation.
Gaby: I should’ve written on that form ‘please hurry’. Gee, I’m glad I’m going to get that record at last. Will you put all this away now, please?
Peter: Wie, das willste auch aufheben? Das ist doch nur Reklame, Menschenskind!
What, you’re going to keep that too? These are only adds, for heaven’s sake!
Gaby: I keep everything from the record-club.
Peter: So, wo kommt das hin? So, where does this go?
Gaby: Right at the back of the folder. It’s nice paper, isn’t it?
Peter: Nee.
Gaby: That’s the second record I’ve ordered. Are they going to send me a receipt?
Peter: No, das ist covered. The balance is going to show it. Kommt das hier rin?
Gaby: No, it goes into the blue folder.
Son Martin comes up the ramp. He carries his school-case., greets me with ‘Hi, Mum’, enters the house. A little later daughter Monika follows, also with school- case and saying ‘Hi, Mum!’ I say ‘Hi, Martin! Hi, Monika!’ As Martin enters the
house, Peter and Gaby are still deep in conversation.
Peter: Martin, was sagt man denn, wenn man hier hereinkommt? — Good-day!
What do you say when you come in here? — Good-day!
Martin: You were talking.
Monika says ‘Hi’ as she enters. And Peter says: ‘Hallo, Monika!’
A bit later Peter and Martin talk with Gaby about her school-certificate.
Martin: That bit of scrap-paper, is that all you’ve got?
Peter: Mehr braucht se doch nicht. Das ist das certificate.
She doesn’t need anything else. This is the certificate.
Martin: Actually you shouldn’t have passed since you didn’t work right through
the year.
Peter: Hat se gut gearbeitet, hat se auch bestanden.
Oh, she worked well, that’s how she passed.
Martin: But she didn’t arbeite gut. She didn’t work well.
Peter: Nun lass man gut sein. Sie hat schon gut gearbeitet.
Now leave her alone. She did work quite well.
A bit later
Monika: Gee, it’s hot! Pat and Donna are coming in a minute. They want a lift over to
Warilla Grove. Who’s going to take us to Warilla Grove? It’s late already, you
know?
(calling from outside)
Uta: Papa’s going to take you!
Monika: Better hurry up!
Gaby: Papa, don’t forget to mail my record-order! The letter-box gets emptied soon!
Peter: Wann musst Du auf der Arbeit sein, Monika?
When do you have to be at work, Monika?
Monika: We have to leave within the next five or ten minutes.
Peter: Ich fahre erst tanken. I go to get some petrol first.
Peter leaves in a hurry.
Pat and Donna come up the ramp. Monika greets them and goes inside with them.
I hear a terrible noise from the neighbours’ backyard: One of their sons goes on his mini-bike round and round in the backyard.
A bit later Wayne comes up the ramp. He carries a beach-towel.
Uta: Hi, Wayne! Do you want to go to the pool with Martin?
Waine: Yeah.
Uta: Best thing you can do in this weather!
Waine: Yeah.
Wayne enters the house. Peter returns from getting petrol. Soon after he leaves with Monika, Pat and Donna in the car. (At Warilla Grove Monika is going to get some training at the Woolworths cash register.)
Martin and Wayne leave for the pool. The mini-bike has stopped making
noise. I enter the house.
Gaby: Heh, Mama, you have to buy some food today, don’t you?
Uta: That’s right.
Gaby: When are you going?
Uta: Later.
Gaby: Better go before five thirty.
Uta: Yes, I’ll do that.
Gaby: How much money have you got?
Uta: I don’t know.
(A bit later.)
Gaby: Mama, can you move my left foot? (I do it.)
Can I go on the Pfanne when Papa gets back?
Uta: Yes, sure.
(She means when Peter gets back, she wants him to lie her on her bed, so that I can put her on her bed-pan.)
Gaby: Can I have a Vitamin C tablet?
I give her one. There’s some more noise from the mini-bike. Peter
returns.
Peter: I just remembered, I forgot to post your letter.
Gaby: God, how could you forget! — Can you post the letter, Mama? You have to go now because the letter-box gets emptied soon.
Peter: Mensch, ist mir warm! My goodness, I feel so hot and sweaty!
Uta: Willst Du nicht zum Pool gehen? Martin ist mit Wayne zum Pool
gegangen. Wouldn’t you like to go to the swimming pool? Martin did go
to the pool with Waine.
Peter: Ich bin schon ewig nicht am Pool gewesen. It’s been ages since I went
to the pool.
Uta: Ein bisschen Schwimmen würde Dir gut tun. A bit of swimming would be
good for you!
Apparently Gaby wants her letter posted before she goes to the toilet.
I get ready to post the letter and do some shopping. The mini-bike makes
an awful lot of noise again.
AuntyUta 
Uta, did your kids grow up bilingual or did they just understand German (passively) and not use it? We’ve always tried to keep English alive in the family even though my grandchildren have grown up in a German-speaking environment, but it is n’t always easy to do. I wondered how you and Peter got on.
Thanks for this inquiry, Cat. In our case we tried to keep German alive. We were not very successful with this. The best German speaker in our family is our youngest daughter, Caroline. She was born in 1978 and grew up more or less like an only child. Besides economically we were in a better position as Caroline was growing up. This is why we could take her on several trips to Germany to visit family over there. Caroline also took to studying a bit of German at university. At high-school German had been one of her subjects too.
Amazingly Gaby always could converse a little bit in German. When Peter’s sister from Berlin was visiting us here in Australia several times Gaby was always happy that she was able to speak to her in German!
I enjoy a little snippet of story from your life, Uta. I think some of the simplest memories and stories of when our children were young warm my heart each time I think of them. 🙂
Hi Debra, I regard this little snippet as a bit of a memory trigger. These simple memories I can recall because on this particular day I had the chance to write conversations down as they happened.
To me just reading it now brings back to mind how our lives evolved around Gaby and how assertive she was. It also shows me how Monika and Martin had their own friends and what they did after school on a typical afternoon towards the end of summer. How Monika was already out to get a part-time job. How Peter was willing to drive the kids all the way to Warilla. How Gaby was interested in the shopping I had to do. And how important it was for Gaby to get her record club order posted. That Gaby had received her school-certificate, the way Peter talked to the kids in German. that Gaby had to be toileted, the noise of the neighbour’s bike, how Peter helped Gaby to sort out her record club order, how he was reluctant to go to the pool, (which still sounds very familiar to me!), how I enjoyed to catch a bit of sun and that Gaby at the time already liked to have her vitamin C tablet.
And then this photo. It shows the ramp for Gaby’s wheelchair. In those days she didn’t have an electric wheelchair yet. She needed to be pushed. Martin has very long, beautiful hair in the picture. I think he only had it cut off when he started working at a bank when he was 17. Martin looks very tall and isn’t even 14 yet. Monika at age 15 looks quite slim. And Peter doesn’t look slim at all. This photo was taken before he started running. Later on, when he became a runner, he slimmed down a real lot.
Yes, I think these snippets of writing are a great memory trigger. It would be good to have more snippets like these!
You have many beautiful memories Auntyuta, what is so lovely about this incident is that you have recorded it beautifully.
Memories are the photo album of the mind.
Ian
“Memories are the photo album of the mind.” This is so well said, Ian. Thank you very much for this!
Beautiful photo and I remember your heartfelt stories… Blessings!
Thank you, Eliz.