Digital Memories

One day, ancestors will wonder something and be able to find the answers they crave. With today's media hoarding and the digitization of records, information will be there to exam. It is such a shame that we do not know the stories of our ancestors and how they lived. We are piecing it together as a society, but as of now, it is  just fragments and speculation. The stories my Oma used to tell me, was of a time that was beginning to record the events of the day. Today everyone has their phones out recording life. I have been that person taking pictures of life. Can't even imagine what I would have done had I had a Phone that took digital photos. Movies! You could have your memories forever. The way someone spoke. The things I remember only in my mind.

Someone recorded his Grandmother cooking "her" meals and telling everyone how she made her family favorites all the while telling stories of her past. I also found one called Cooking with Oma and she cooked some Goulash that made me think of my own childhood. My Oma was the cook in the family. She was a typical German cook. Minus the spaetzel.  Somehow we didn't have that. We had boiled potatoes as our main side dish with meals. Anyway, this woman sounds very much like my Oma and I tear up anytime I think about it when I watch it. The other videos are called Cooking with Clara. Cooking during the Depression.

Cooking with Clara

https://youtu.be/DuMkW35BwK8

The videos of Cooking with Oma

https://youtu.be/hpHY0t7dYRE?list=PLwfp9p93a6TRr6No0sLO4F5vuLc7e62ih

(Apparently, these links do not work, but if you right click it says something to the effect, Go To and viola!)

And here is a picture of My Oma making dinner. She would hate that I am sharing this photo on the internet. It is not her best look, but of course I love it. We had such a neat kitchen back then. I wasn't crazy about all the brown in it, but for the time it was Nifty. Okay, I guess I'm okay with it now. It was certainly better than the Avocado  or Gold appliances back then.
Hey if you are reading this Thanks for stopping by. 

This Getting Older Thing, Has Got To Change

Funny thing about getting older. The feeling that you are running out of time starts hinting around your head. The feeling that the future is bright seems somewhat less shiny. and things like a quarter of a century whiz by at a lightening  pace.  My daughters 26th birthday was today . My favorite years of my life was being an active parent to her and her brother. I feel my role as parent is finished since I have done everything possible to prepare them for the adulthood they are living. I can say I did the best I can and the end result seems even better than I expected. I hope for success in what ever they pursue. One lesson they taught me was no matter what I wanted for them, that their dream is stronger. Willfulness seems to be a strong virtue. Listening to what my elders said to me, well, I had my own ideas. Of course, I should have listened to my elders. My career has rewarded me and cursed me. A never ending list of things to accomplish most days. Some days I think I really am terrible at my job, even though I have done my job for 39 years. When I think about doing this 6 months shy of 40 years. It hits me how much time has gone by. Like I hit a brick wall.

Mostly when I think of how I am changing the most, is my want to get things done list and the desire to actually get the things done. Not to mention, getting the said things done requires more energy and did I mention motivation? Of course it does not help that I am lugging around more weight than I need to be lugging around. No thanks to my broken metabolism. As hot as I am temperature wise, you would think something is burning calories in there. As much as I am active around the house, you would think I could lose some pounds here and there. I even went to the gym and started going regularly and still nothing. Not even the increased stamina. Of course, perhaps I should go back to my doctor so she can not believe any of my attempts of trying to lose my starvation pillow, aka my food baby. Any way. I only wish I did not get hungry so I can live without the food that I apparently do not need.

Enough of this weird entry/ almost like a diary entry. I am convinced no one reads this so I feel safe.
My positive vibes get lost sometimes and I need to refocus and see only the positive . Peace out.

Now for something Completely Different

Not that this blog has gone places, cause it hasn't, I feel I may take this and turn it into something that also includes more of my life and interests. Through the decades I have had many hobbies and interests. It did kind of start with Barbie and my need for her to have things for her imaginary house. My mother had a sewing machine and the next thing I knew was learning to sew. I come by it honestly. My Great grandmother in Bernburg sewed and my mother learned to be a seamstress in Germany. She didn't use her skills to make a living, but I did watch how she sewed and then watched how my playmates mother sewed her daughters clothing. Between both of them, I learned to construct my own clothing, and clothing for my youngest sister. Some of the stuff was garbage, but we'll call them learning experiences.

My mothers style and the clothes that were popular in the seventies fueled the desire to construct my own clothing. I made mostly blouses, but also made skirts, pants, outfits. Most of the items turned out really good and I found my way to make things cheaper than what I found. Mostly it was a way to fit me too, since I always was a tad heavier for the norm of the day. And taller. Now it is nothing to find clothes that actually fit, if places carry that size. I suppose sewing was my first hobby. It evolved into doing embroidery, and then somehow everyone was doing cross stitch, in which I made several works of art for my walls. My love of Barbie furniture turned into creating things in miniature. 1 to 12 scale. Still have all that stuff. As my daughter grew up and it was time for Barbie and American Girl, I was able to make things that I loved. These hobbies have sustained me. I find now though I am having a difficult time finding things to do that I love. I do not like to just make things without a reason and for this I am sad. Hopefully one day I'll have a reason to feel motivated again.

I love Class Photos. They give the viewer a glance of the times. My mother is in this one and I would think this is taken between 1947-1948. She would be 6 to 7 years old if this is the case. I believe the family was living in Bernburg, Germany at the time, however I might be incorrect. The hair styles are very similar. 2 children are smiling. My mother is the child in the middle in the third row with the white collar. Surely she would not get mad if she should see this?

One of the earliest photos I have of my Grandmother is this one. This is taken about 1926-1927. Taken in Berlin. I can barely see her. She is sitting in the cart. I do love this picture. She had written a story of finding a horseshoe when she was a child. Or rather how when they were children, anyone who found a horseshoe had infinite luck. I have it scanned and in her own handwriting. I wish she had written more of her stories. She was one who could tell a tale that held my attention for sure.

 This post is mostly a post on my frustrations to people I do not know. I reached out to them and essentially am being treated as I have before, ignored. Swept under a rug. Perhaps they have not seen my messages to them. I do not think this is the case. Now it is simply, that no one I contacted has chosen to acknowledge my existence. Why should I be surprised? I wasn't supposed to happen. I was not supposed to be conceived or born  or interfere with family plans. And even though I came about, everyone continued with all of the plans made. And even though Mr. Wade adopted me, I always felt like there was something missing. You can tell when there is a secret being kept from you. There is an openness not there. Always being treated differently. Mr. Wade or Daddy always had a good relationship with me, and this really isn't about that. From the time I knew I had a different father, I had questions that no one could answer well enough. I always wanted to meet him. How my mother met his cousin outside UK Med Center and found out what had happened to him, is beyond fate,  I know she has been embarrassed about what happened, but it did and it is 2015 now. I am 54 years old and I still feel like there is an emptiness. And I guess there always will be.

Always told to go look in the mirror when I asked what he looked like.......

because I never saw a photograph. That changed last year. I found a photo and it was true I looked very much like him. And I found more photos. I take pictures like him too.

My mother said he was very nice.

So if my other siblings who I do not know....I do not know what to do with this desire to connect with them. They are in a different country and I know they speak English. I know perhaps I could have scared them, but really? I probably know more than I should. It happens when you are obsessed with finding information. Of course I could be wrong on what I am finding out,

I watched a movie with Meryl Streep called The House of the Spirits. It kind of reminded me of what the other side of the story could have been. I also have read how illegitimate children are regarded in El Salvador. It breaks my heart.

I live a good life, I should have nothing preventing me from living a life of love and happiness. Something tells me though I should try to connect. I have found so much in my internet searches. Why hasn't someone found me? I wonder if they knew, and if I was a family secret.

So to the children of Jorge Palomo Sol. There are 4 of you and I know you are loyal to your mother. I understand the conflicts, but I want to meet you. I realize it is a sensitive nature. Even if it is not a sibling, I want to know more. I have the genealogy . I know now more about that side than my maternal side. It is fascinating to know where my DNA has come from. I have yet to see a picture of my grandmother and Grandfather on that side of the family. Someone used the term Genetic offspring. In terms of children born out of wedlock. I like it.

To anyone in the world who is reading this, and that will be rare. Thanks for reading. If anyone is reading that I hope to touch base with. or a nerve. I am here. I am on Facebook....Adrienne Wade Davis.

Day at the beach, German style

It's a day at the beach with relatives in Berlin. Since my grandmother is about 5 years old, it was taken somewhere around 1925-26. I believe these are her mothers relatives. I was thinking it was taken on the beach near the lake in Berlin, but it could have also been taken near the Baltic Sea on Holiday?

 I have found fascinating documents since starting this blog. My great grandmother had several siblings from August Mannewitz and Berta Therese Anna Lange. It was a surprise, since I thought she was an only child. Another person that I thought was an only child was my great grandfather on my Opa's side.His name also Paul Stapf. I found a marriage certificate of a Friedrich Albert Otto Stapf with Paul's parents name on it! What a find! He died in 1941 in Berlin and I do not know if he and his wife Anna Bertha Lisbeth Kolhoff had any children. The search will continue though. My Opa as far as I know was the last Stapf from his line. Oma and Opa had a son but he past away when he was 18 months old from a freak accident. Hot water had scalded him when he reached for a pot on the stove. There had to have been an underlying issue as to why he died besides having hot water spilled on him. Of course I guess shock would have been the cause of death. Mental note to look at that certificate.

I have seen other families photos from Germany that seem to have similar photos. There was a site where a fellow posted his Oma's pictures online. They were so similar in area and time, that I felt like I was going to find my Oma in his pictures. He had class photos and one very similar to this beach scene. That site no longer is available. Such a shame. I truly enjoyed looking at those Vintage photographs. Hope I find them again.

My Oma with her sister Ulla