I spent the turn of the year in Southern France. I did this together with Nadine more than once and we always enjoyed being mostly on our own during this this quiet time. On the last day of the old year, I took a lonesome walk along her favourite beach in Leucate Plage. In the picture, you can see a spot shielded from the winds, where we often sat together, reading books in the afternoon sun. Even though I can’t say that I’m doing terrible after almost two years, memories like the one of her sitting in the upper right corner of that staircase feel heartbreaking to me. I guess they ever will.

Almost two years. If fate would know such a thing as justice, she would have turned 50 on the 25th of January. Instead, two years since her passing will be completed on January 28. Sometimes the ordeal she mastered so bravely seems very distant to me, but sometimes it’s like it had just happened yesterday and the most terrible sadness I’ve ever experienced returns in full strength. It may sound strange, but in some respect I’m glad this is still happening – propably because I wish to honour her beautiful mind for the rest of my life.

If you feel similar, I want to invite you to join Nadine’s family and me on Sunday the 27th of January at 2 p.m. at the Waldfriedhof. We will meet at her tree, commemorate her together and proceed to one of her favourite coffee houses later.

I haven’t written anything here in quite a while – for almost half a year to be precise. This doesn’t mean that nothing has happened in my life. But the things that did happen haven’t got anything to do with Nadine and my relation with and feelings for her.  So, with the topic of this blog not being touched, I don’t want ro discuss them here.

My feelings for Nadine and my attitude towards the whole story seem to be settled somehow now: I feel grief every now and then and I think of her warm, fondly, thankful and lovingly. But I have found my way to carry on, and, most of the time, I don’t feel unlucky.

Even though it was raining heavily in Stuttgart today, I decided to take the long walk to the Waldfriedhof. I haven’t done this for a while – on all my recent visits I stopped by there by car. But today, on this dull afternoon, I felt the need to walk my way up there and pay my respects. I found the little hill that marks her gravesite all covered in leaves. Amongst them, there were some fresh rose petals I did not put there. It’s good to see that I’m not the only person who does pilgrimages sometimes…

I already told you that I stopped visiting the Waldfriedhof regularly – but sometimes I still feel the need to go there. Especially on these weekends when all my friends are occupied with their own lives so that I fail to make any appointments and stay on my own. These are the moments in which life continues to show me that I have lost the perfect and most reliable company I ever encountered.

I don’t want to complain in general: most of the time I feel quite well and I’m also able to go out, have fun, laugh and converse or maybe even flirt with other girls. Nevertheless, the lonesome weekends aren’t easy, but I try to take them manly and accept them as something which still has to happen in my life.

When I came to the Waldfriedhof on Saturday, the sea shell Nadine collected in Southern France and which I put between the roots of her tree more than one year ago was missing. I felt obliged to return on Sunday to replace it by another one from her vast collection.