Monday, December 22, 2025

An ode to my late mother Irma Bingel

She passed away early November 2025 in Munich, Germany at age 86. May her soul R.I.P. I am now a single child full orphan. I will always fondly remember her. I hope her soul will be with me for the rest of my life. When I die, I am convinced our souls will meet again.

I regret very much for the rest of my life that I have seriously neglected and ignored my beloved mother over the past 20-25 years or so. There were reasons, but they were not very convincing in hindsight.

I have always been a mostly forward looking and very optimistic individual all my life. Not too often I have looked in the rear mirror and reflected on my past. However, this changed with the death of my mother. I am now in the process of reviewing my past life a little bit more.

With her death, I am painfully reminded what a great mother she was. Despite the divorce of my parents when I was about 15 years old and despite that I chose to live with my father instead of her after the divorce, she was always at and on my side afterwards. The divorce was a very traumatic experience for me. It took me a long time to overcome why my father and mother separated.

I actually owe her a lot. She was always supportive of me. I learnt many things  from her, e.g. women's rights (feminism), history of art, to cherish museums and travel, be familiar with social issues, to learn about other cultures and ethnicities and so much more. I am afraid I may have never thanked her enough for her unwavering support of and her love for me.

Apparently, as a child I had some serious issues with e.g. German grammar, learning the English language and math in high school, but my mother kept practicing with me as much and as long as was necessary to improve my skills.

Did my mother know or suspect that I was perhaps afflicted with autism and/or ADHD? Back then, when I was a child/teenager these two developmental disorders were barely known nor familiar in Germany. She never told me and I have never asked or had it diagnosed by a doctor to this day. Maybe she just wanted me to live a normal life. However, I am sure I gave both of my parents often a hard time to deal with me. I was never in my life really able to focus on one or only a few things. My mind is more like a floating butterfly or a zipping hummingbird.

My mother herself probably suffered from some form of neurosis all her life. She never liked to have photos taken of herself etc. I may have inherited her dislike of having taken photos of myself.

Both of my parents pledged to give up smoking and alcohol drinking after I was born so I was told. I don't quite remember whether my mother was a smoker before or whether she was inclined to drink immodestly. I believe she was a smoker.  However, my father was a heavy smoker and he may have occasionally had also some drinks too many, but he was never an alcoholic or even close.  She never smoked again and her alcohol consumption remained very moderate throughout her life. However, the example of my parents giving up on tobacco and alcohol consumption always stayed with me.

My mother occasionally mentioned that she was too young when I was born as if she tried to blame herself and as if she indirectly asked me for forgiveness for any mistakes she may have made. She was only 22 years old when I was born. From my late father I would much later, after the divorce, learn that my parents had a serious discussion about an abortion. My late father always kept loving my mother to the end of his life (he later remarried) and he expressed to me more than once his deep gratitude that I was born. His faith in the sanctity and dignity of any human life born and unborn was very strong. Who defends the life of fetuses or children when not the parents or other adults?

Both of my parents allowed me to have a dog when I was about 11 years old under  the condition that I was to be solely responsible for the dog and I needed to take care of the dog. I had discovered this lovely, funny puppy dog at a major art exhibition, which my parents and I visited together and I begged to have this dog. I am very sure that it was my mother who convinced my father for this to happen. Neither my parents ever had any pets after I was born. I think it helped me greatly to grow up with my dog. Me and my dog were inseparable and close companions! 

My mother invited me as a teenager or very young adult to accompany her on two international summer vacations. The two of us visited the Algarve in Portugal and Agadir in Morocco. Unfortunately, I do not remember much anymore, but it was very beautiful.

One day many years ago, my mother and I visited an art museum in Munich and my mother stopped at a famous painting. It depicted Thomas the Doubter. She turned around towards me and said this was me. I have no doubt she meant it. She knew and I immediately understood what she was expressing about my character.

My parents also taught me very early on the meaning of the last words of Jesus on the Cross "God forgive them for they do not know what they are doing!". God is my interpretation of Father, but it is inspired by my parents, most likely by my mother. However, both of my late parents were not very religious outward, e.g. they did not visit any church on a regular basis nor did they observe religious rituals very closely, but I believe they both were deeply religious on the inside.

My mother was very smart in so many respects. Her humor was sometimes subtle or self-deprecating, but very contagious. I had some good laughs with her.

I believe, my mother regretted all her life that she did not complete a higher education at an university. She wanted to become a PhD. This left her with some feelings of inferiority. After the divorce, she would complete some kind of an education program for working adults to earn a degree in pedagogy.

She certainly has nurtured my lifelong, intense curiosity about so many things that life, history, science and nature have to offer!

I feel sad that my mother never remarried nor seemed to have had any other long term relationship with another man except for one, but it lasted only for a few years or so. She had a few close friends in Frankfurt am Main, but when she moved to Munich, I believe she had fewer friends in Munich and maybe none towards the end of her life. After her death no friend or neighbor ever contacted me. Her legal guardian, who accompanied my mother at the end of her life, did not mention anything like it to me. Very sad!

My mother's parents is a different story! My maternal grandfather had a very visible disfigurement in his face around one of his eyes due to surgery early in his life. He was hard of hearing. He was very kind, but he was not very smart, perhaps he was mentally disabled. I believe he did not have to serve in World War II because of it. He was tall for his generation, kind of awkward moving around, and he had the largest hands of any human being I have ever met in my life. His fingers were long and very wide like typically a thumb. As far as I know, he lived largely in solitude all his life. There were a few friends. He worked all his life almost day and night six days a week as a kitchen helper and a cook in various restaurants. On Sundays, he would attend the catholic church in his neighborhood. His life was very simple and basic. I believe, he never really lived together for an extended period with my maternal grandmother. My grandmother and my grandfather were married, but they separated not very long after marriage for ever. Without my father, who insisted that we, the whole family, visit my grandfather at least once per year during Christmas to have dinner together, I may have never gotten to know my maternal grandfather. It was my grandfather who invited us all to come over to his home to have a Christmas dinner together. As a cook he would always prepare his favorite dish Sauerbraten mit Semmelknödel, which I liked a lot. I believe, he prepared the Sauerbraten for several days to make it extra tasty. My mother always avoided seeing or being with her father. I never quite forgave my mother for that. My maternal grandfather instilled in me a lifelong great respect, appreciation and admiration for people with disabilities and how they cope with life.

My maternal grandmother was a heavy chain smoker and the owner/manager of a hotel cum brothel near the main train station in Frankfurt am Main. She lived and managed the hotel from her hotel room 24/7, it was her home. The hotel was not very elegant nor very exquisite. It looked a little bit run down from the outside and inside. But business was good so I was told by my late father. There were guests from all over the world coming and going not least also thanks to the international airport of Frankfurt am Main. I remember, the face of my grandmother always looked like a hard working woman, but she was very happy every time to see me when I visited her in her hotel room where she lived. She never used any cosmetics or nail polish, she never wore any nice looking or fashionable clothes and her hair style was very basic. I am not even sure she left her hotel very often. I don't remember she ever came to visit our home. She was kind and very generous to me e.g. providing me with some extra pocket money as a teenager. My mother always avoided her. I never quite forgave my mother for that. My father did not visit my maternal grandmother very often either or barely at all.

Otherwise, the family of my mother known to me was very small. She was the only child of her parents. Then there was a grand aunt with whom my mother had a more or less close relationship for many years until the grand aunt passed away. I had some contact with the grand aunt myself.

Yes, I have realized that my mother most likely had a tough childhood not to mention she was born a few months before World War II officially started in September 1939, but I believe that both of her parents loved her in their own ways.

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