How a Walk on a Sunny Day in Munich Helped Me Find My Father
Sometimes healing takes a really long, winding path
There are many elements to the back-story that brought me to Munich, but suffice it to say, one never knows what-leads-to-what in the universe. Chance encounters and an open heart and mind, in my experience, allow for interesting solutions and opportunities.
My father, who was German, died when I was 19 years; I am now older than he was when he died, which is surreal. He lived all of his adult life in Canada, visiting Germany only sporadically over the years. I last visited the country when I was 4 ½ years old during the Christmas season, with my parents and younger sister, but not again — until a few weeks ago, and only because I had to.
Since moving a year ago to a small town in Albania, I had travelled to 10 countries, none of them Germany, and at no point did my wanderlust tempt me to go there. The universe, however, intervened in a way I could not ignore. To be dramatic, my health actually depended on it.
In my pursuit of tracking down medication I require (which I now know is manufactured only in Canada — lesson learned), the most viable option that emerged, was to order a slightly different formulation online and have it delivered to an address within Germany (where it is manufactured and sold…
