One day a few years ago I saw a neighbor with his children as they walked with their kite up the hill behind my house. In the evening I saw the kite hanging high up in the tree. Over the next several months, I admired the kite outside my living room window and became quite fond of it.
The following winter, a tragic accident occurred. The neighbor died. I was deeply shocked. It broke my heart when I thought about his young family – especially the children who now had to grow up without their father. Suddenly, the inspiration came that I should write a story about the kite. One evening I lit a candle for him in my study. I kept the candle burning, and suddenly the story was there. I turned to the computer and the narrative flowed through my fingers over the keyboard.
After that, I didn't know how to continue. I felt the need to get his wife's consent to the project. I wrote her a long letter to introduce myself and put it into an envelope with the story. I was hesitant, as I didn't want to be pushy. A few days later, I gathered up my courage and went and put it in her mailbox. Several days later, she thanked me warmly and said that something could be made of it, but she needed time, which was understandable. Relief spread through me. I took her positive response as permission to continue working on it.
I imagined I was a child and illustrated my story. Often I forgot the time and worked until late at night. My cat generally brought me to my senses. He would jump on the table and lay down on the drawings to make it clear to me: "Enough for today!"
During that time, we had several "chance encounters." Once, as I walked past her house, a blind fell out of the window and landed on the street right in front of my feet! I wondered if that was a "sign" that I should introduce myself – but I was running late and in a hurry. These frequent chance encounters spurred me on to continue drawing. I have no idea how many hours and weeks I worked on it, but at one point I knew: Now the story is finished.
I often looked at the house in passing and felt great sadness. It had been many months since they said goodbye, but I felt how the mother and her children lost him on a daily basis. Every day brought new situations in which they had to cope without him.
One day it occurred to me that my great-grandfather and grandfather both died young, and they left behind women with small children. It wasn't easy for them. I wondered if that's why this story affected me so much. I felt a strong need to help. Thus, the plan was born that the proceeds from this children's book should benefit the children.
After the illustrations were finished, there were no chance encounters for a long time. Then, one day, we happened to see each other on the forest path. We greeted each other. Later I texted her to let her know that the pictures were finished, and I would like to show them to her when she is ready. A few more months passed by.
Suddenly, I had a strong urge to hold the story in my hands. I had a few copies printed online. After they were delivered, I wasn’t sure what to do next. One day I thought to myself: I haven't seen her for a long time. If we meet today, it is a sign that I should give her the book. An hour later I went out for a walk with my husband. As we walked past her house, she was outside, putting something in the car. Such a coincidence!
A few days later, I put the book in an envelope, put some tangerines in a bag for the children, and set out for her house. I rang the bell. She opened the door. Without introducing myself, I said (quite nervously): "I brought you some organic tangerines. They are delicious and I thought the kids would enjoy them." She smiled, "Yes. Thank you!” Then I pointed to the envelope with the book and said, "And I have this with me." We hugged, exchanged a few sentences, then I went home. A few days later, she sent me nice feedback. That gave me the courage to send a few copies to publishers. To my great surprise, a positive answer came quite soon.
Since I did not yet have her blessing for the project, I hesitated to answer. More time passed. Lately I had noticed that the kite has a few tears. Its colors no longer shine so brightly in the sun and the material has become brittle due to the effects of the weather and the sun. Perhaps that is why I felt the urgency to get on with the project.
One day as I walked home from the village, she drove past me and waved. I interpreted it as wink of fate and wrote her a cautious text message. A short time later, she called and gave me a green light.
In the meantime, the book is done. The time has come. And maybe now is just the right time. It was published by the Bucher Publishing Company and is available for order in stores and online. And she and I have finally met and got to know each other.
I made up the story based on the kite and the accident. It's about loss and letting go. With the help of time and the seasons, the loss is processed. Then this loss turns into a comforting idea. I hope that, despite the sad content, readers will be able to perceive the beauty and truth of life in this story.
I have never experienced anything like this. So many chance encounters! I believe in fate and signs, but this story and its creation almost scare me. Yet this process strengthens my belief in the universal forces and that we are all connected.
Last night before I went to bed, I reflected upon the day. My first interpretation was: It had been a lazy Sunday. A few hours earlier I had seen part of a talk by Pema Chödrön in which she said, it is all about interpretation and how we label things. If we wake up and it’s raining and we can stay in bed, then it can be cozy to hear the rain pattering on the roof. But if we are to attend a wedding that day, then it is quite a shame that it is raining. Either way, it is raining.
After the initial “lazy” label, I took a brief look at what I had actually done all day. I read the newspaper, did two sudokus, cooked a delicious lunch, baked chocolate chip cookies, booked a flight “home” to visit family, rode 10 km on the exercise bike, and played guitar and sang. That list gave me a pleasant sense of satisfaction. See? You can get a lot done without running yourself ragged. It was a different quality. I felt calm and relaxed at the end of the day and was pleased with my accomplishments. I also cuddled with my cat.
Nothing is all good or all bad. I had a friend when I was 20, and she was also suffering from an eating disorder. I’m sure I have written about her before. We met at a therapy group in New York City in 1981. The other women in the group had started eating again and were gaining weight, but the two of us were still too proud of our protruding collar bones to understand their “progress”. We left the group and became best friends. We were on the phone a lot. It was quite a support for both of us and got us through difficult times. Any hour of the day or night, you could call. Most of the time, the other person would be awake. If not, it didn’t matter. She woke up.
Now fast forward to some 40 years later. We are both healthy, both realize that an awareness of our bodies is always going to be there. I don’t think that is ever going to go away. That’s how it is. But that’s okay. We started calling each other at the beginning of the COVID pandemic. She was feeling kind of overwhelmed by the whole situation, so she asked me if we could talk every Sunday. I said, “Sure.” When she asked me, I was feeling good and strong. I felt very generous, and that I would help her get through this. That is a role I feel comfortable in, when all is well. I don’t like to be needy.
But over the course of nearly two and a half years of Sunday night phone calls, things can change. I’ve had my ups and downs, and she has as well. It has been nice to talk. Especially since my cat died and I have been grieving, she has been really supportive and helpful. My daughter is getting married in the fall, so we are on the phone about that, too. My friend is kind of an “adopted aunt” to my daughter and will attend the wedding.
Just the other day, it occurred to me that it's like when were young women and used to be on the phone all the time. I am grateful that we have revived the depth after all these years. We were always friends, but our friendship had lost some of its intensity through the distance of me living in Europe and she in the western USA. She has been especially helpful with the grieving and the wedding. I’d been feeling like I don’t know what’s wrong, but just felt totally discombobulated, and she reminded me that I am still grieving or just overwhelmed by everything. That is very helpful. I realized lately that I am still really sad.
Our friendship has developed and reached a new level, perhaps because we are in a healthier space right now. Or maybe it’s because we are older and wiser? Who cares?! Lately we’ve been talking more than just once a week. It reminds me of the good old days when we used to talk every night. We used to see each other a few times a week. It's funny, back in the old days, she was sort of the "wild" one, and I was the more “reasonable” one or whatever, and I used to feel like I had to give her advice, or that I knew better. When we started our Sunday night phone calls, I felt that I could be there for her, like I was in the old days. But over time, it has been give and take, where we are there for each other. (That’s how it was back then, too, but I just blocked it out.) The regular phone calls originated out of her need, but in the meantime, we are supporting each other. What a difference to talk frequently rather than do the once a year catching-up during a visit!
I’ve been going through a hard time and had some difficult situations, and she has been an incredible source of support for me. It has been a whole new experience to open up and share that and be able to accept her support, because I’ve always been so strong and could do everything myself. I didn’t need anybody, and I wouldn’t even listen if somebody would tell me something or make any suggestions. So it’s been a real learning process. Like I said, the COVID chapter is not all good or all bad. I choose to focus on what has changed for the better. That is my choice. The bad parts are there anyway.
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