From both sides of the Atlantic

Hi fellow humans roaming this planet!

It feels like I’ve been in Germany forever.
Only a few more days before I head back to the country of my choosing — although, if I’m honest, right now I briefly toy with the idea of changing my mind… if it weren’t for the people I love waiting for me on the other side of the planet.

I wanted to report from both sides of the Atlantic.
From my vantage point, it’s been surprisingly smooth sailing.

First things first: James is doing incredibly well.
And yes — Coby (I know, I know) is overdue, very overdue, for his own update. Especially now, since he and James have become as close as twin brothers.

Coby is the only one — besides me and a few doctors — who has witnessed James in a state of complete disarray. A full Lewy takeover.
Seeing the dismantling of the personality of someone you once knew is beyond imagination unless you’ve been there.

I’ll admit it: after all these years, I’ve become somewhat desensitized.
Coby, on the other hand, stepped into his caregiving role like a pro. His attention to detail goes far beyond “regular care.” Maybe it’s brotherly love. Maybe it’s vigilance. Maybe it’s the quiet panic of knowing that if anything is just a tiny bit off, James could spin out — and me being gone is a pretty big “tiny bit.”

And yet… so far?
Smooth sailing.

Coby rearranged his work schedule so he can be with James mornings and evenings — sharing coffee and breakfast before work, then coming home to cook a healthy dinner and what he lovingly calls “evenings with my little brother.”

Before I left, I set up a SignUpGenius calendar so friends could keep James company during the “dry period” when he’d otherwise be alone.
Nothing wrong with being alone — except when Lewy decides it’s his moment to shine.

From experience, I’ve learned that Lewy gains the upper hand when James isn’t keeping his body lubricated with movement and his mind oiled with conversation and connection.
When James is engaged — especially with good people — something almost magical happens. Lewy loses ground, and James becomes lighter, clearer… present. When that doesn’t happen, it can be scary. So: good company = Lewy kept politely at bay.

I won’t lie: all three of us were scared.
When James asked how he could help me while I was in Germany dealing with everything here, I told him the truth — the only thing that would truly help me was knowing he was okay. Not just surviving, but actually living while I was gone.

From this side of the ocean, that’s exactly what seems to be happening.
Yes, we miss each other. But James appears to be having a fairly entertaining time — friends dropping by daily, conversations flowing, no room for Lewy to pull his tricks.

At one point, when a friend had to cancel, James asked innocently,
“Is it okay if I take a break and have a day off?”
That’s when I knew: the plan is working.

Dare I say it?
For the moment, James almost seems better than before I left.
What a relief.

Meanwhile, here in Germany, I’ve received help I never even asked for — help I couldn’t possibly have managed without, both before arriving and during these four and a half weeks.

My mother’s funeral was sweet and sad.

https://youtube.com/shorts/xilNmbCNGdw?si=bmNDT_CPWmfbf_Jd

I was surprised by how at ease I felt among her friends — some of whom I had never met. No blood relatives there. Just love.

My mother didn’t leave me money. What she left me was her neighbor — who became her closest friend — and then became my friend. She helped me beyond anything I could have imagined.
She quite literally saved me from debt, since my mother hadn’t taken care of funeral expenses (money management was never her strong suit — spending it, however, she mastered beautifully).

I inherited my mother’s friend.
That is worth more than money can buy.

A week ago, I left southern Germany, where my mother lived and died, and took the train north to Berlin — my birthplace.
Here I’m surrounded by close relatives and my closest childhood friend. My aunts are all nearing 90 — this is the golden window before everyone turns 100. New family members keep arriving too, multiplying by the year.

I’m enjoying being here among what I know — even German bureaucracy, which remains as reliable as ever.

There is always a pull to return here, and I feel it tugging — especially now.
But the strongest pull comes from the people waiting for me in the U.S. I’m not wavering. I’m not comparing. I know where I belong — for better or worse.

Thank you for listening.
Thank you for reading.
Thank you for caring.

Happy holidays to you all.
I’ll be home soon. 💛

Love, alway,

Margit