Grown Up

 

Last week I transferred the money for a piece of real estate (nope, not quite as grand as the one in the picture) that Highflyer and I decided to buy together more than half a year ago. It was an absolute bargain and great investment and we are planning to rent it out after renovations (it's in very good shape, though). While I had not planned to buy a house, it didn't take much convincing as it was clear that it would be stupid to pass on this opportunity if we can afford it without taking out a loan. Even though I own my flat in Vienna, I did not buy it myself, but - spoilt single child - my parents did, so at the tender age of 53 this is the first property I bought myself. Thanks to its comparatively fair and affordable housing market in the East of Austria at least there is no pressure to "get a step on the property ladder" and throw yourself into debt the minute you get your first pay-check, so it is not uncommon to just rent. In any case it felt wildly grown up to casually transfer a six-digit amount.

The (Un)Kindness of Strangers

 

In the days following my fathers death, my mother and I were overwhelmed by so many lovely words and gestures by friends and family alike. I was particularly impressed by my parents' neighbours, whom I barely know myself, who dropped by with cards and gifts. On the other end of the spectrum: a troll who replied to my ad on behalf of my mother (for fortifying drinks that had been delivered in large quantity for my dad, but were not needed/consumed any more) in a way that made me gasp. And block them immediately. I had googled the price of said drinks and made what I thought was a fair bundle price (that I would only be the basis for negotiation anyway as people there like to haggle), but instead of ignoring it because they considered it overpriced, that person wrote to ask me if I was out of my mind and (as I had mentioned that the drinks had just been delivered, but the recipient had died shortly thereafter) made a point of remarking that the deceased had probably received everything free of charge by his insurance so it was even more ridiculous on my behalf. It made me realise how public figures must feel every single day when people feel obliged to leave nasty comments on their posts rather than swiping/clicking on and not saying anything.

Role Model

In German there is a denglish label for independent, successful women that I have always hated: Powerfrau aka "power woman". I hate it because it seems so patronising, there not being a male equivalent for it. Unfortunately, in the business and media world, women love to use it just as liberally. Be that as it may, I do think that strong women deserve to be recognised and recent events have made me realise that I am very privileged to have two generations of independent and self-sufficient women in the maternal line of my family as my role models.

Last Thursday, my father died at the age of 80, a very sad event that my mother and I no doubt will take some time to process fully. The past few weeks were very hard on her in particular and yet I am confident that she will take all challenges in her stride and not wilt like a flower after the death of her husband, like so many women of her generation do, who do not have a driver's licence (my mum made it with 18), have never been involved in family finances (my mum has been the "Minister of Finance" of the household for decades), don't have any hobbies or interests other than cooking for their men (before he became too weak to cook or even walk to the kitchen, dad always considered himself the chef, in particular when they had guests coming) and never had a profession or income of their own (Mum earned more than dad as she worked longer hours and had extra duties for most of her career). Her mother and one of her aunts, my great-aunt, ran businesses and my other maternal great-aunt worked in an office, where she was not just a typist or secretary as was the norm back then. 

As sad as we both are, I am relieved that my mother now finally has time for herself (even though there are a gazillion of things to organise in the coming weeks) and knowing that she won't do a "Greek widow" and hide at home in a black house dress is a great relief for me.

The Times They Are A-Changin

On Saturday, we attended Highflyer's niece's wedding in Germany. It was a lovely event in glorious weather on the longest day of the year: a welcome distraction from concerning news on the home front. In fact it was the first wedding I attended as a guest since before the pandemic. The last wedding I had been to was my own, almost 3 years ago now. The bride was 31, so more than 2 decades younger than us. Family aside, most guests were the couple's age and thus many of them had babies and toddlers with them. I remember when I was in my early thirties, there were sometimes several weddings to attend in one "season". While back then, first (proper) jobs, pregnancies and babies were hot topics, these days my generation doesn't get invited to that many weddings anymore and our topics tend to center around illnesses (both our own and our ageing parents'), children who have flown the nest or are about to and sometimes also about things we don't understand about "the young generation", such as their (lack of) commitment to work or their OTT political correctness. I guess as long as we don't embrace sensible mum haircuts and beige polyester clothes we still have some way to go until officially entering boring old fart territory.

 

Back from the Bubble

Highflyer and I are back from an eventful, action-packed, inspiring and intense week in Japan. Apart from the fact that my hopes regarding my dad's health that I expressed in my previous post unfortunately did not come true and his physical and mental condition deteriorated, rather than improved in hospital, horrible national and international events happened last week. Thanks to news available literally at our fingertips 24/7 we learnt about all these event pretty much in real-time, but things like Austria being in national mourning after the school shooting that caused 11 deaths seemed far away when you're not "actively" part of it. As tragic as it was it felt more "abstract" than both the Air India plane crash and the fact that Israel is in war with Iran due to the fact that we knew we were flying back on a Boeing plane and didn't know if our already very long route would be affected because of a detour for safety reasons. Being on another continent in a different timezone feels like a parallel universe and you feel equally helpless and detached.

 

The Thing With Japan...

When this post goes live I should be in Kyoto, Japan and my dad hopefully is in a better state than when I left last Friday. 

Thirteen years ago, my mum left for Japan and the same night my dad called me in Vienna telling me he could barely breathe and when I offered to come, he was very grateful. I hopped into the car and arrived in Klagenfurt before Midnight, driving him to hospital the following day. Until then, neither my mum nor myself were aware of the fact that he already had severe COPD after decades of smoking. Long story short, I took care of it, got him admitted to the pulmonary department of Klagenfurt's main hospital and we decided not to inform my mum so as not get her worried and ruin her vacation. This was in the days before daily communication via WhatsApp regardless of your location, so it was easy to "fool" her. I had actually planned to fly to London that same week, meeting the Empress there, who was on a business trip and then to take the Eurostar train (spoiler: still have not taken it to this date) together with her to Paris, where she then lived. I ended up staying in Klagenfurt longer, not using my outbound flight and Eurostar ticket and taking the train from Klagenfurt via Mannheim to Paris instead. Dad also gave up smoking right there and then, but the damage was done and his (physical) health has deteriorated considerably since then. So has his mental health lately and he has been very depressed and grumpy (refusing to do anything about it), making life seriously miserable for my Mum and getting me very concerned of course, not only because I am the only child who lives 300+ kilometres away.

The situation escalated last week when I was in Carinthia for my Mum's birthday and I accompanied him to the ER because, again, he felt he could not breathe. I ended up spending over 7 hours at the  hospital until he got admitted and at the time I am writing this, the day before leaving, he has been moved to the geratric ward after days at a normal private patients unit where, after an initial mood lift when he was almost his old sarcastic version, he turned extremely dejected and pessimistic again, not even responding to my messages with a thumbs-up or his favourite emoji of choice, the Eyeroll. To say I am apprehensive and concerned before my trip is putting it mildly. Part of me wishes that I was as blissfully unaware of the situation at home as my mum was back then, wishing that at least he'll be much better by the time I return as was the case back then. Fingers crossed!

 

Biased

Two months ago, I got a new manager. She's about 10 years younger than me and has been in the company for more than twice as long as me. Nonetheless, she was the absolute wild card for the position and I had only heard her name before. As she worked in a "sister department" consisting mostly of industrious worker bees of the type who start work at 7 and leave at 3 p.m., the majority of them "mere office workers" with a high school degree at best, I immediately threw her into the same bucket despite the fact that I soon found out she actually had two university degrees. The image of her (supposedly) boring clerical past stuck to her and as so often before when I had quickly labelled people based on some - alleged - information and mental shortcut I had to overcome my unconscious and very conscious biases alike. 

She may not be riding 100% on my wavelength and I might set different priorities (but, hey, I didn't even apply for the job, so it's lame and easy to just criticise) , but she quickly turned out not only to be a very decent and down-to-earth person eager on getting shit done, but gradually some really interesting biographical facts have emerged that eerily match my own, such as having studied the Turkish language in our twenties (she studied in Istanbul for a year, I had a boyfriend who is originally from Istanbul for 11 years). It's amusing to myself that I actually hold unconscious bias workshops myself, but then again, their central message is that everyone is biased, but the important thing is to be aware of the fact that you are.