While writing yesterday’s post for my German blog I continued thinking about my family. And this fucking poor family-portrait, we would like to show the society. Who are we? We are a family, which doesn’t seem to live.
But the thing, I want to write today, is that I actually would have a brother. But in the year 1984 my mum had a still birth. He should be named “Florian”. I think that’s a wonderful name. And since I know this, since I know, that I could have a brother, I really can’t stop think about him. I can’t remember a day, on what I don’t think about him. He’s in my head. Although I’ve never seen his face.
A very interesting question is, that if Florian had the possibility to live, my parents would have a third child. Would I exist if Florian had? I don’t know. I have to speak to my parents. To my mum, mainly. Although I know, that she doesn’t speak very often about him. I need this for coming to terms with the past.
He would be 23 years old. I think he would be a great brother. And after all these years I’m still sad. Sad, because I think that I had need a brother in the last few years. Maybe this thought is very egoistic. But that’s what I am.
