Landing…

My computer clock shows 7:23 but I know it is 8:23.
I would give my vote to air lines who would set a limit to flights with babies or anything aged under 13 on board (and gosh, actually a brilliant marketing strategy, there are already family-free campsites).
Anyway, with listening to music throughout the whole flight I managed not to go crazy. Nothing, though, could mend my heart that I had to leave my England.
There was a good reason why I didn’t go to Germany all the year around…because I just could not bear leaving my home behind.
And, landing in Germany – before the gates opened at the airport in Berlin Schönefeld, there was a printed ad on the wall: DDR Museum …hahaha I thought I ended up in the wrong part of history – was the strangest feeling. 
My parents were quite talkative …..and when we talked about the GDR, my father said something which flooded memories wow. He talked about the writing and drawing desk I had as a child (it was a huge one, from the police station actually). I can remember it very well but barely could remember what I was drawing…I only remembered that I did draw and paint a lot…the big desk gave me freedom for all sorts of inspiration.
Anyway, my father mentioned this one line that I always used to say…and I can hear me say it: ”Daddy, daddy look, I draw a ghost.” 
And I said it very often…other children would be drawing their family, or flowers or cats or a house (the last three I did too, yes, but not in that quantity)…Jessy had to draw a ghost….something completely invisible…no one could grasp. That sure explains why my parents could never understand me, or even were scared of me (nope, not necessarily because of the ghosts)…because they couldn’t see what I saw.
Whether I have seen ghosts? Oh, perhaps, who knows.
Ah, yes so that was my piece of unexpected moment that shed light onto a chapter I cannot even willingly remember anymore.
This Christmas I haven’t prepared myself for anything, yet I seem strangely well organised…and surprises seem to come without much preparation, don’t they?

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