Life Across the Wall – Chapter 6: The Reunion

“Come on, Matilda! When will you stop your bad eating habits?” shouted my mum with displeasure. “How often have I told you not to eat so fast like a rat? Look at yourself. You’re gulping down your food instead of chewing it.”

“I’m sorry, mum,” I replied, trying to catch my breath as the food clattered in my throat. “You know I have to leave quickly.”

“You’re not going anywhere today, Matilda,” declared my mother firmly. “I’ve told you we will stay home today, waiting for your cousin. Haven’t I?”

“But mum, Hannah is coming at six o’clock. It’s too early now,” I mumbled, swiftly removing the breadcrumbs from my scarf so my mother wouldn’t notice.

“Oh really?” responded my mum, still gazing at me firmly. “The lady is coming from far away to visit us for the first time. We should prepare dinner, arrange her room, pick her up from the train station …”

“Okay, okay, mum,” I interrupted with a reassuring smile. “Everything will be alright, I promise. Please try to relax.” I added, “By the way, I didn’t ask you what Hannah said about Dad during her call yesterday. Did the court decide on the release request? The lawyer confirmed a great chance of his release regarding his health concerns and the recent political changes, didn’t he?”

“Hannah didn’t say anything; she was in a hurry,” replied my mum, twisting her wedding ring nervously. “I tried to ask the lawyer several times yesterday, but his office did not answer. You know,” she continued, “after the Berlin Wall fell and the recent events that followed, no one can predict what will happen in Germany.”

“But, mum, I told you we need to go to visit dad and speak to his lawyer in person. I can’t believe how we’re still not allowed to visit him. We should do something.”

“Will we go see the lawyer? Really? When will we do that, Matilda? You’ve been out all day, moving like a bee around Berlin. How often have I seen you since November 9th? How often have we had lunch together?”

“But, mum, you know how busy I have been since the fall of the Wall, working day and night to cover the events,” I responded, trying to avoid looking into her small, angry blue eyes. 

I added, my voice rising with enthusiasm, “You saw with your own eyes how events were escalating since the 9th of last month. In a daze, thousands of Germans flowed through the Wall, celebrating and crying at its collapse. Many political decisions have been falling on our heads thick and fast. The latest was that meeting in Malta between George H. W. Bush and Mikhail Gorbachev, 3 weeks ago,  on the 3rd of December, marking the end of the Cold War. Please, Mum, can you imagine? Tell me how I could have missed all of this?”

I continued talking excitedly as I rushed to empty the rest of my plate into the bin to avoid her anxious looks. “It’s not only me, mum. All the world will never forget that day. Who would have thought that people would storm the wall to tear it down? It all happened so fast. And now look what we are like now. For the first time, people began to move freely between the two Germanies. Also, Chancellor Helmut Kohl unveiled a plan for the reunification of the two Germanies in 1990. Germany will be reunited very soon. Isn’t it unbelievable, mum?”

“Ah, I wonder what your dad said when he watched all this,” gasped my mother, pushing her chair back. “He fought for a unified Germany for more than forty years. Your father always loved Germany like a child loves his mother, Matilda. Sometimes I wonder if this love has completely ruined him.”

She added, with great bitterness while wiping the wet dishes with her trembling palms, “People are ungrateful. Your father had always paid the price for this moment of his life, of his freedom; and now when all this has happened, look where he is, crouching between the dark, cold walls of a prison and no one remembers what he did or even mentions his name.”

Then she murmured as she left the kitchen, leaving me drowning in my sorrow at her desperate words. “We’ll go visit your dad, Matilda, when Hannah returns. We’ll take the train together. Prepare yourself. I don’t want any excuses.”

The afternoon hours flew by so quickly. My mother and I were chasing the fleeting minutes as we prepared plates of pastries, grilled meats, and various sweets. 

Hannah’s arrival at our house was an unusual event. She had never come to see us in Berlin since she was born. Like my father, she paid the price for her love for Germany and her defence of her cause with her family life and her freedom. 

The poor woman could not overcome the news of her husband’s death in a East German prison. She suffered greatly after his death and endured a lot of pressure to raise her children alone. But she was able to get back on her feet and teach her children the strength and determination that always amazed me.

After the fall of the Berlin Wall, Hannah was the first to call us. Her joyful laughter rang through the phone as she told me how her children were dancing and jumping for joy as they watched people tear down the wall.

“Mum, are you waiting for some of your friends?” I asked as the doorbell rang.

“I can’t believe it,” screamed my mother from her bedroom. “Matilda, how many times have I told you not to ask me that question? Just open the door and see who came.”

“Who is coming now?” I muttered in dismay as I headed to open the door. “It is not time for a visit. We are going to bring Hannah from the train station in half an hour.”

As I cracked the door wide open, a middle-aged woman stood before me, wearing a beige cashmere coat and a wide-brimmed black hat. She held a brown leather suitcase. Beside her stood a beautiful girl of about ten, who gazed at me, smiling from under her golden, wavy hair.

“Hello,” the woman cried excitedly, jumping up to hug me tightly. “Sweet Matilda, you’ve grown up.”

“Hannah?” I cried out in surprise. “But you told us you’ll come by train at 6 o’clock.”

“Haha. I wanted to make it a surprise,” chuckled Hannah as she dashed inside. “You should have known that I always go against expectations. I am the queen of surprises. Ah, I forgot. This is Margaret, my baby,” she added as she pointed at the young girl, “My sweetheart Margaret, the 3-year-old baby you saw when you came to our house. Do you remember her?”

“Hannah! What a wonderful surprise!” exclaimed my mother as she rushed to hug her.

I stood in wonderment as I watched her take off her coat with a swift movement with her hand and move comfortably into the living room as if she had known it for a long time. It was as if she had brought warmth and life to this house. “This woman is truly stunning,” I noted as I shut the door.

“Matilda, please don’t close the door,” said Hannah, with a cheery smile as she gently grabbed my hand from the door handle before opening it. “I didn’t come alone.” Then she yelped, stepping a few steps outside the door, her blue eyes sparkling. “Welcome home, my dear uncle.”

There he was at the door standing before me with his black coat and small glasses. His thin, pale face was covered by a thick white beard with a few dark hairs that seemed to witness the last memories of his youth and strength that had been lost under the weight of many years of loneliness and pain.

That was my father. I stared at him, motionless and soundless, my breaths caught in my throat as if the wheel of time had stopped at that moment. Everything inside me was suffocating: my breath, my words, my tears, my memories. Everything.

“Matilda,” he whispered between short, weak breaths. “My beautiful girl. I missed you.”

“I missed you so much, dad,” I sobbed, hugging him and kissing him everywhere. “I love you,” I murmured, burying my tearful face in his thin, trembling chest. “I have always loved you, dad,” I added. “Let’s go inside,” I said, grabbing his arm tightly as if I were scared I would lose him again.

With a sigh of relief, I closed the door behind us as if closing the doors of long-suffering years behind my back.

My mind grew empty. My words faded away. I just wanted to live these moments one after the other, moments of a long-awaited reunion whose details I had drawn with my tears on my pillow every single night. 

“That nightmare is finally over, young girl,” I said to myself as I heard my mother’s joyous laughter, mixed with tears, filling the house for the first time. “This time, the past is truly behind us. It will never return.”