Prior to our Venice trip, John and I were able to spend a few days visiting my German "family," the Bachs, in a little town outside Frankfurt. I hadn't seen them in over twenty years, and with my Mom and Dad both gone now, I felt a pull to see everyone again.
My brother and I were both born in Germany. My father, an architect, had been transferred to Frankfurt and even though my Mom had relatives in other parts of the country, the Bachs became our adopted German family. I wondered how much had changed since my last visit— as it turns out, not too much. The kids I played with when I was younger have grown up and now have kids of their own. Everyone stays close. And the minute I walked in the door I remembered everything: our parents' dinner parties, my first Nutella sandwich, shelves of books, the secret garden, and the hilarious plays we kids would put on for the grown-ups. Good times! It felt like coming home. Twenty years will not go by again.