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Mami. The most beautiful name I have.

The hardest part of my expat adventure was not having my son around every day anymore. The more beautiful and precious is the time we then spend together. It sounds all the sweeter to me when his deep male voice calls me "Mami."

 

"While your children are little, give them roots. When they grow up, give them wings ...". That was my baptismal motto for him. It fills me with deepest gratitude to see how deeply rooted our love is. How rooted and comfortable he feels in his family. And how firmly rooted he is above all in himself. Because he is his own person. Free.

 

This young man has spread his wings and flown out of the nest. Off into life. Cheerful, full of plans and dreams, for which he also goes. Independent, self-reliant, with a clear compass of values. Carrying so much peace and clarity. Love and wisdom. Full of humility and with a wide heart I observe how grateful and satisfied he is, aware and appreciative, attentive, helpful, respectful and wonderfully humorous. I listen in amazement to his thoughts and perspectives on life. Children are our greatest teachers. Also when it comes to letting go and trust.

 

When I left Germany, my son said to me: "Mami, you taught me to fly. Now it's time for you to spread your wings again ..."

 

And so we both fly.

 

Our common nest is no longer just Germany. It has also become Dalmatia - and who knows what other places in this world. We are travelers. Our home is the deep unbreakable love for each other. Home is the feeling of being rooted in ourselves and each other. Mami ...



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