When I was very little, our doorbell rang regularly. The neighbor, Frau A., mostly stood there in a state of disarray and complained of something in great excitement. i was too small, to understand, that the object of her lawsuit was her husband Sigi, a German, like them and as a professional military as well as never at home. Sigi, that much became clear over time, was a bold man, he had a military pilot's license.
Frau A., sold chunky gold and silver belts from a stall in Loeb during the weekdays. Her nails were put on artificially, red or pink, the lids painted mint, dicker Mascara, Strong rouge and a very light foundation turned her face into a bit of a travesty artist. Of course we didn't know anything like that back then. So neighbor A was. for us simply an exotic one, slightly fluffy colored bird, who was always unhappy despite his beautiful appearance.
Someday, it was the last time, dass wir Nachbarin A., met us in the hallway, entblösste sich vor uns sozusagen zum erstenmal ihr Gesicht. The make-up ran down her face in long streams of tears, Brownish pigment spots appeared and a sad, red-smeared mouth struggled with the shock: “He left me.”
About a year later, Mrs A. her sister and nephew and had the two-story single-family house increased by two more floors. The house, that stood above ours on the slope, now had something of a tower, the one with its sweeping, absurdly high facade covered the evening sun.
We had no more afterglow, because Sigi, this unfaithful greyhound, so my dad, left Martha.
I didn't understand the scope of the term divorce. But that's how I interpreted the situation for a long time: always, wenn ein Mann und eine Frau sich scheiden lassen verschwindet die Abendsonne hinter einem übergrossen Gebäude und lässt sich in der Regel lange nicht wieder blicken.