From today I will write here again. The reason for my long absence could hardly be more sad: the death of my mother.
For weeks I couldn’t think, read, or write anything. Mami’s death for me is a catastrophe of cosmic proportions. Death is always a disaster. No matter whether it occurs before, shortly after the birth or at the end of a long, as in Mami’s case, almost 92 years of life.
A small consolation is that I was allowed to accompany her on her last journey.
And that in a city, Regensburg, which reminded me every step of the way on tearful walks that there is eternity. In the middle of the old town, with more than 2000 years of building history, the cathedral rises like a giant spruce. He points up. A hint.
In order to recharge my batteries before starting everyday editorial work, I was able to leave for a few days in Switzerland and visit my godson in the Bernese Oberland.
We tried to distract ourselves with hiking. And we went to Gstaad’s little cinema to see the new Bond film.
It was worse than I feared.
I am glad we did Daniel Craig are going on. His suits are badly cut, his tie knots too thick, he lacks charm and elegance above all – that lightness (or “désinvolture”, as Ernst Jünger would have called it) that Ian Fleming once wrote for his hero.
The next day we visited St. Josef, the small village church in Gstaad. Interestingly, my nephew and I were the only church attendees who weren’t part of the Filipino domestic staff of local oligarchs and sheikhs.
In the past you also saw Italian princesses here or a Hollywood star got lost here.
Past. They all now do yoga or have house shamans.