Cuba, Cora and Secrets Revealed #Cuba #Adoption #Secrets

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It was just a year since I had moved myself and part of my business from Winnipeg in the Canadian Prairies to beautiful British Columbia and, to top it off, to the coveted city of West Vancouver. It was 1986 and during those years not everybody had a copier, a fax machine and certainly not a computer. I was lucky because around the corner from my office an elegant, beautiful white haired lady had a small business providing all those services to other small businesses like mine. We started visiting over a cup of coffee when I came. One day I told her that I was flying to Cuba.

Cuba-1

Former cottages of rich Americans

“Cuba? Really? That’s interesting. When are you going?” When I answered “tomorrow” she sat back in her chair and asked “do you go by yourself or share a room with someone? Or don’t you do that kind of thing? In case you do, would you mind if I tag along if I can still get a ticket?”

An hour later she phoned me and said “It’s settled. I got the last seat in the plane”. And that is how I got to know one of the most interesting and unforgettable woman in my life. Cuba had opened up for Canadian visitors in 1966 and this was my second visit. I knew it would be appreciated to bring pencils and pantyhose because these things were rare and the Cuban maids doing our room were delighted. We stayed in the (former) Beach House of the Kennedy family, shared a very large room and my only complaint about Cora was that she read all night. I need it dark, but we also talked a lot. She told me about her incredible life in South Africa and that she emigrated to Canada because of an affair with a married man. She needed desperately to get away from him since she saw no joint future and just heartache if she stayed. As you can imagine, we got to know each other quite well.

Suitcase collection, time to leave

Suitcase collection, time to leave

Back in Vancouver I developed terrible back pain. She referred me to her massage therapist whom she had seen for years. “He has the magic touch”, she told me, and she was right. I became a regular in his practice. He had two stepdaughters and his tales often reminded me of my similar former life.

West Vancouver had a famous vegetarian Health Food Store with a Restaurant. “Capers” served the most delicious food and at lunch the crowds where lining up. Often I met there with other business ladies, sharing jokes and laughing our heads off. On one of those occasions I saw Cora standing there, looking around as if searching for someone. I jumped up, greeted her and she said “I am supposed to meet my son here…” I was dumb founded because she had never mentioned she had a son. At that moment my massage therapist came in, saw us, greeted us and then also looked around and said “You two won’t believe it, but I am to meet my birthmother here. I was adopted and I have been searching for her.”

Cora paled, stared at him and said “YOU? I am to meet my long ago adopted son here…”

Phil, the massage therapist who had massaged her for years, also cried out “YOU? YOU are my birth mother?”

Cora, who had told me so much of her life when we shared a room on Cuba but this she had never, ever, talked about. She had sadly confessed that she had absolutely no family. Now, when we met the next time, she smiled her beautiful smile, lighting up her whole face:

“Giselle, first I had nobody for about 50 years and now I have a son, a daughter in law and grandchildren. Can you believe it?” She organized a big celebration on her large deck and all her small business customers were invited. Talking among us we were all incredulous and just kept looking at her, our beaming and gracious hostess, Cora.

For another “adoption” story see “My first train trip”, page 35, in my book and learn how my aunt and uncle hid a Jewish boy in Nazi Germany during World War II, or see “Gerhard’s Story” on YouTube.

Internet love – It was the wrong date… #love #companion #dog

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Helen was close to tears all the time. She knew that her beloved companion did not have many more days to live and she just couldn’t imagine her life without him. She worked at the library, only ten minutes away from her home and at lunchtime she would run back to see how he was doing and try to get some food into him. The last few weeks had been hard; he was now totally blind, eating very little, dizzy and unsteady, she had to put diapers on him and almost wished it would be over soon. She did not have the heart to bring him to the vet and have him put out of his misery.

Cindy“Oh, Giselle,” she breathed, “I love Pepper so much, how can I be the one to kill him? I just can’t see myself making that decision.”

I tried to make her feel a little better by telling her about my memories about pets.

“I understand. I lost a dog once, but it was different. Cindy was run over and I cried for six weeks until my seven year old boy insisted on getting another dog. I remember my father shooting his beloved cat Peter; he had him for an amazing twenty-one years, and Dad cried after he did it. He explained to me that he was being kind to Peter who was suffering and dying anyway. And, Helen, – you would be kind to Pepper. What kind of life is this for him? He suffers, Helen, and you don’t have to shoot him, the vet will give him a needle and he will gently fall asleep.”

It took a few more days before Helen did what had to be done.

It was about two months later that I ran into her in a Coffee Bar. She looked fine to me, – almost happy. Giving her a big hug I couldn’t help asking:

“Heh, you, – how are you doing? Did you get another dog? You seem like a new person to me!”

Pointing to the chair next to hers she offered me some Newton fig cookies but said:

“Here, have some date squares, – you want a coffee?”

Then she gave me the biggest smile:

“I am happy, Giselle, I really am! – You wouldn’t believe what I did! I’m embarrassed to talk about it… and I don’t want to ‘jinx’ it…”

“Oh, come on, – we have known each other long enough. What did you do? And, by the way, you are eating Newton fig cookies and not date squares…”

“Whatever. Okay, I’ll spill my beans but you must promise to keep my secret for now. I couldn’t stand living alone after Pepper was gone. One night I went online and checked out the dating sites. I figured it would be nice to have a human companion I could travel with instead of another dog who keeps me at home. You know, – I lived ten years with Pepper after my lousy divorce, convinced that ‘a dog is a woman’s best friend’ but I’m getting older and I want a bit more out of life now before it’s too late. Believe it or not, – I have about three dates a week! I found a dating site for seniors, with men looking for the same thing – companionship.”

Wow! I was dumb founded. I looked at her, I was incredulous, and by now she was very excited to tell me about it.

“I always meet them at this Coffee Bar, I want to be safe. They don’t need to know where I live. So far I have met most of them only once, I liked a few of the guys but none has even asked for a second date. But there is one, – Giselle, – I am going to see him again on Saturday. But I have another date this afternoon. I feel like a teenager again, – it’s cool, maybe you should try it!”

When I met her a couple of weeks later she couldn’t wait to tell me more about it.

Grinning, she confided:

“Remember that afternoon date I told you about over coffee? I was waiting for the new guy and lo and behold, all of a sudden the one I had a date with for Saturday stood in front of me. You can’t imagine my embarrassment! I felt the blood rushing to my face I wasn’t sure what to say, but he just sat down, smiled and complimented me on my healthy colouring…“

“Oh my God, Helen, what a situation! What did you do when the other guy turned up?”

“That’s the doozy, Giselle, he never did! It was this one I had the date with. I kept looking at the door until he asked me why I was so nervous. I took heart and told him about my mistake and we had a good laugh. That laugh settled it! We have been seeing each other quite a bit and even plan to go on a trip to the UK in August. So what do you say now?”

It was almost a year later when I worked alongside her at a volunteer function. When there was a bit of a lull she held her left hand in front of my face and looked at me expectantly. “My goodness”, I exclaimed, -“you got married?”

“Giselle, he is incredible. I had a broken shoulder and he cared for me while I lived with him for several months. He really proved himself. When he asked me to marry him I agreed wholeheartedly. My home is for sale and I will live with him. When I sold my car, he immediately had his transferred into both our names. I was so lucky for having met him and he thinks all the luck is on his side. We are so happy. Can you believe it? To have a new start like this in our ripe old age?”

“Helen, my congratulations! I remember the day when you introduced him to me. I told him you are a keeper! He seems to have taken it to heart. Please tell him that I am glad you are together for the rest of your life.”

Cupids heart“Bet ya, Giselle, I’ll do whatever it takes to keep him and myself healthy so that we still have many years together.”

Hope. There is always hope! The Internet, – canoodling while Googling?

Radio Interview #TheBeach

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Another day – another interview!

The Beach logoI am looking forward to meeting David Graham on the airwaves of CIBH The Beach Radio 88.5 FM at 8:45 a.m. on Tuesday, March 31st.

Book Launch – #Winnipeg

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Book Promotion in Winnipeg for “We Don’t Talk About That”

March 13. to March 20, 2015

will find me negotiating the frozen, hopefully not too snowy streets, in my old hometown, Winnipeg, Manitoba.

McNallyBook reading/signing – McNally Robinson, March 15th from 2:00 p.m.

I look forward to meeting a number of you when I visit the McNally Bookstore on Sunday, March 15th to read selections from my book and sign copies. – http://www.mcnallyrobinson.com/event-14067/Giselle-Roeder—-Book-Launch/#.VOyrCi4eorg

CJOB Radio, Dahlia Kurtz will interview me on March 16th from 2.00 to 3.00

Dahlia Kurts is scheduled to interview me on her afternoon radio program “The Show With No Name” on CJOB Radio 680 AM

Dahlia KurtzShe will remind you that I was the founder of ‘Giselle’s Professional Skin Care’ years ago and also the host of the Cable TV Show “Giselle’s for Skin & Health’ which run for 9 ½ years! CJOB was also the station where I was interviewed after my “Health Books” were published.

 Chapters Polo Festival in Polo Park – hosting the book launch/signing March 19th 6-9 PM

Cahpters logo“We Don’t Talk About That” has made quite a splash internationally and dozens of readers have told me “I couldn’t put it down.”. I would like to see many of you come and help Chapters and me make this event festive and exciting.

 

Do you belong to a group who might need a speaker for a meeting during the above mentioned dates? Any other bright ideas to make my week in Winnipeg successful? Please contact me by e-mail: giselleroeder@hotmail.com  I appreciate your input.

Updates to this announcement will be posted here. Please click on “Follow” to receive updates by email.

Winnipeg

Winnipeg – Photo Credit: AJ Batac via Compfight cc

70th Anniversary – Dresden Bombing

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View from City Hall after the raid

View from City Hall after the raid

Sure I was aware of the Dresden bombing but I had no idea what the city looked like after the fact – http://www.bbc.com/news/world-europe-31452693

I must say after reading this account from the BBC I am totally flabbergasted.

Cupid’s Arrow #Valentine #Honeymoon

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“Would you like to marry me?”

Panama Canal

Panama Canal

We met Ed and Lucy on a Panama Cruise. We shared a dining table with another couple. It’s funny but I cannot even remember their names or faces. They never stayed after dinner, they came and went and seemed to be busy, busy, busy. When they were there we did not talk very much. Ed and Lucy were elderly darlings. It was incredible to see how tenderly Ed helped Lucy, pulled out her chair, put a scarf around her shoulders, held her elbow when walking in and out of the dining room and always had his warm, shining eyes on her.

Panama 2

First view of Panama Canal

A historian was telling the story of the building of the Panama Canal over a loudspeaker while we sailed through it and everybody crowded around the railing at the bow. People were jostling to take photographs and pushing their way through masses of people. I remember that I needed to go to the restroom but didn’t dare to leave and lose my spot. We stood out there for hours while the voice over the speaker was droning on. Ed had found a place in a corner with a kind of exhaust funnel that was big enough for Lucy to sit on. He had to lift her up there like a child and then was standing behind with his arms around her, to keep her safe. Lucy was glowing, was smiling at everyone and especially at Ed. Whenever we met them on land during stops and outings they always held hands or he had his arm around her waist. He would buy her a single rose which she would pin on her dress or jacket when coming to dinner. During my teenage years I thought this kind of tenderness a bit silly. In later years I was touched almost to tears when I saw older people holding hands. Did I feel jealous because I never had that kind of attention? No, I felt sad and I wished…. Once I asked a trusted male friend why this never happened to me. He told me “You seem too confident, you don’t need a man to take care of you and men instinctively know that. No man would dare to just do it. It would have to come from you.” Hmmm… Once, at a convention in New Orleans coming from breakfast, a gentleman in our group grabbed my hand when we crossed the street. I pulled it free as soon as we were on the other side. He looked at me and said “You don’t like holding hands, do you?”

Back to Ed and Lucy. Once dinner was ordered they would hold hands under the table, sometimes even on top of the table until the other couple arrived. I noticed that their legs under the table always touched each other. After a few days and feeling more comfortable with them I mentioned my admiration for the display of their apparent love. They looked at each other, she nodded and Ed told us their story.

They were both widowed. Together they had been married hundred-and-two years, albeit to different partners. She came from a large family and still had six living siblings, the oldest 82, the youngest 71. She was 78, her next younger brother was 77 and not well. Ed was 79 and alone since he had lost his wife. They lived in the same city in Florida but had never met. A good friend of Ed’s who felt sorry for him invited him to come to his church in another part of the city to join a group of people who met once a month for coffee and cake. Ed happened to be placed next to Lucy. He mentioned “I was very shy and quiet. Lucy was an extrovert. She soon helped me to feel relaxed. We had a lovely time. When the social broke up I was afraid I would never see her again and dared to ask her:

“Would you like to meet me for coffee tomorrow?”

She looked at him for a few seconds and he started to lose heart. But finally she said:

“Yes I would.”

Again they had a good time. He told her that he was able to cook a real good spaghetti dinner. When she looked at him expectantly he asked:

“Would you like to come to dinner to my house on Saturday?”

Again she let him wait for a few seconds and then just told him:

“Yes, I would.”

The dinner, three days later, was a success. He showed her the house, photographs of his wife, they laughed a lot and before she left he asked her:

“Would you….would you like to marry me?”

She looked at him for a long time. He was afraid he had been too hasty. But then, a big smile spreading across her face, she said:

“Yes, I would”.

The old gentleman looked lovingly at Lucy, held her hand across the table and Lucy continued the story. She told us “we were married three weeks later, are married for a week now and we are on our honeymoon.”

At the next stop in Curacao, on the coast of South America when we came back to the ship a bellhop with luggage followed by Ed and Lucy came down the gangway. Lucy was crying. I couldn’t help asking why they left and was very sad to hear why their honeymoon had been cut short. Her younger brother had died and they wanted to be at his funeral. I hugged both of them and said Good Bye and Ed whispered to me:

“Don’t be sad for us, I’ll take her on another honeymoon.”

This is my true Valentine story for 2015. Now in my “golden years” myself, I understand their kind of love. Cupid’s arrow hits independent of age. Isn’t that comforting to know? Make each day count, because none of us knows how much time we have left.

Rose with a heavenly scent

“Blue Hawaiian”…the Hula dance and Aloha #Hawaii

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Pot of Gold?

Pot of gold?

Is there anybody out there who has NOT dreamed about at least once going to Hawaii? The TV series “Hawaii 5-0” and many movies filmed on these beautiful islands with some of the highest mountains in the world (measured from the ocean bottom), the many waterfalls and, for the history buff, the books about Captain Cook and Pearl Harbour have inspired generations, and they still do. Some of the most beautiful beaches in the world, the highest waves attracting world class surfers, the infamous ‘Road to Hana’, the drive up to Haleakala to see the most incredible sunrise and the rare silver thistle growing up there in the cold, the active volcano Kilauea, the pineapple fields, the romantic music and the Hula dancers telling stories with their movements and hands attract thousands of visitors year round.

DSC04016

Catch the wave

I just came back from a two-week holiday on Maui. After probably fifteen visits to the different Hawaiian Islands Maui has become a favourite and the Ka’anapali Beach Hotel our ‘home away from home.’ Why this hotel? Because the KBH is the most Hawaiian of all the Hawaiian hotels, employing Hawaiians with a team spirit that lets the visitor wonder who is actually in charge. You never notice it. The word ‘Aloha’ means many things: Love, compassion, affection, good wishes, hello, good bye and many more. The hugs you receive when coming back show you that you are part of the ‘Ohana’, – the Hawaiian family. At the end of your first holiday you receive a dark kukui nut lei (necklace), and each time you come back a pale beige kukui nut replaces a black one. Just count the beige nuts, add one year and you know how often a guest has been there. Since the employees wear these leis as well you wonder why so many have only light nuts around their neck. Those who do have been working there for 25 years and longer, no room anymore for black nuts…and everyone greets you with a big smile and ‘Aloha’, is happy and incredibly helpful. They truly make you welcome and feel like family.

Ka'anapali Grounds

Extensive grounds

The best thing about KBH along the famous Ka’anapali Beach with well-known hotels like the Westin, Hyatt, Sheraton, Marriott and many others is the very large green space with old trees, the privacy and choice you have to tan in the sun or rest in shade, unlike the other hotels where beach chairs are lined up side by side with no room to move. Free daily activities like pineapple cutting demonstrations, sand images, Hawaiian language instruction, cultural garden walks, lei making from flowers or leaves, leaf weaving, kiddies programs, ukulele lessons, singing, storytelling and last, but not least, hula dancing, which, next to the language lessons, is my favourite. Did you know that the Hawaiian language only has five vowels and 7 consonants in their alphabet? That’s why many words seem to be doubled up: “Humu humu nuku nuku apua’a” That’s the name of the Hawaiian Statefish! Naturally the grounds face onto the beach and the approximately two km long beach walk is the delight of all morning joggers and remains busy all day. If you see a group of people staring out to sea you know they are watching the whales playing, jumping, blowing and waving their tail greetings.

I needed a holiday. I was stressed out after my book “We Don’t Talk About That” came out in April 2014 and kept me very busy with lectures, book signings, book readings and mail from all over the world demanding or asking me for a second book, the continuation after a rather “abrupt” ending of my WWII memoir. Do you know what happened the second day?

Young Hula dancers

Children’s hula

You guessed it. A beautiful Hawaiian lady approached me asking if it would be possible to get together with several of her friends and her husband who had read my book and had questions…Another of my Hawaiian friends waited to have her book signed by me only to be asked by a guest from Minnesota who overheard our conversation to loan it to her to read on her trip home. With her ‘Aloha’ compassion she could not say “no”. She was promised that it would be sent back – I hope she receives it soon!

“Aloha”, my friends!

“We Don;t Talk About That” can be ordered from Amazon, Barnes & Noble, Chapters, Coles, iTunes, Kobo, FriesenPress

Dutch Clogs and a Nazi Flag Dress

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Several years after WWII ended life ever so slowly had returned back to a bit more normal and I had become a teenager. We lived in the eastern sector of Germany, a country without shops of any kind. I had outgrown the clothing my mother had made from rags and “one dress out of two”. Would it ever have been nice if jeans had been invented already because then all the kids would have looked more alike and there would not have been so much heartbreak with the teasing and bullying for the weird clothing I and my sisters had to wear to school. I will never forget the three winters I had to wear an old torn black form-fitted ladies coat with green patches and a huge big bust typical Dutch designline, stuffed with horse hair. I was only eleven, starved and thin as a stick. There was no choice: I was lucky to have found the coat under a bush where someone had discarded it. At least I had a coat at all during the winters 1945, 1946 and 1947. Uncle Fritz did a deal by exchanging fish for some Dutch clogs and those wooden shoes kept my feet very warm. But imagine the picture:

A small, starved thin eleven year old kid with a big busted fitted ladies coat and Dutch clogs! I wish I had a photograph! Today I can smile or laugh about it but back then it caused me many tears and I refused to go to high school when the time came. I had nothing to wear. The teasing was already bad enough in the small village where we lived, – but going to a city school? I’d have died…

Giselle

Modelling my “Nazi flag” dress

I got a chance to learn to sew but I had to bring my own material. You couldn’t buy anything, but a kind neighbor gave me a big Nazi flag she had found in an old trunk in her basement or attic. Her family and mine would have been arrested if anybody would ever have found out about it. To own a Nazi flag was forbidden after WWII. I undid all the seams, took the white center and the black stitched on swastika apart and my seamstress teacher helped me to design a pretty kind of ‘country dress”. The body of the dress was fashioned out of the red material with a wide swinging skirt, a white insert around the neck and small strips out of the swastika around the skirt and the insert and a black belt. It wasn’t quite Bavarian style, but very similar. I was proud and wore that dress happily. When I grew out of it my third sister Ingrid wore it. Well, – look at the pictures taken a few years down the road with my first camera, a very simple box camera. To find out how I got such a treasure

Ingrid modelling her "hand-me-down" dress

Ingrid modelling her “hand-me-down” dress

you’d have to read my book “We Don’t Talk About It”. (Chapter: ‘Berlin – here I come’)

I wish I could share several letters from a lady who picked my book up on impulse at Chapters just a few days ago. She read several hours in her car in the parking lot, “I couldn’t put it down” she writes, – “went to the gym, read while doing a workout on the bike, drove home, read some more, couldn’t sleep, and finished it the next morning”. I know that she really read every word of it because she asks questions about different things she couldn’t have known had she just ‘skimmed’ through it. So, – click on the links to the bookstores and order it now! You will be looking at the present world problems a little differently and have hours of reading to keep those little “grey cells” (as Hercule Poirot says) very stimulated.

The Word Press Report 2014

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DSC00985It was a very pleasant surprise and I like to say “THANK YOU” to the Word Press Monkey who did this. Very much appreciated!

Wow! How interesting for me to read that my website was viewed by 5.500 people in 2014. I had uploaded 155 photos with my blogs. The busiest day was September 20th with 272 views. The most popular post that day was the “My Family Tree”. The most interactive post was the Kennedy Assassination. There were 57 new posts in 2014 adding up to a total of 60 by the end of the year.

The top referring sites were Facebook, the buttons for the website.com, Linkedin, Twitter and the publisher’s site FriesenPress.com.

Of 68 countries involved, Canada was # 1 with the most views, closely followed by the USA and Germany.

I would like to add that I had e-mail exchanges with countries as distant as Afghanistan and even Hungary. For me as a writer interested in history Linkedin sub-groups gave me rich picking grounds for learning, new ideas and stimulation. I even made several active Internet friends in different countries who have read my book, wrote reviews. I am in the process of reciprocating. Several wrote such interesting books that I got caught up in reading instead of writing my sequel to “We Don’t Talk About That”.

2014 in review

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Many thanks to those of you following my blog. The WordPress.com staff prepared the  2014 annual report for this blog below. It is very interesting to see the number of countries and individuals making up these stats.

Here’s an excerpt:

A New York City subway train holds 1,200 people. This blog was viewed about 5,500 times in 2014. If it were a NYC subway train, it would take about 5 trips to carry that many people.

Click here to see the complete report.