Just typing that out feels unreal to me. Realizing that a year has indeed passed from the time that I was leaving a place I had come to love totally for a strange new place that has now taken a similar position in my memory has been jarring. First came the Tigers first game last month (you guys started the season so early, wow), then came the graduation of Kenyon's class of 2014 this past weekend. As pictures of football games and graduation caps filled my social media accounts, I kept thinking back on my time in Deutschland, and of the time that has passed since I have returned. I won't lie and say that I haven't planned on writing a retrospective all this time, but the impetus I have to write now is fresher, more spontaneous than I could have expected. I am a particularly nostalgic person, for better or worse, so this should come as no surprise.
Clearly I'm being self-indulgent in the writing of this; I live in the U.S. now, doing fairly normal things, living a fairly normal life. For the time being, I don't have many really interesting things to write about like I did every week on my five month long adventure. This is not exciting reading material, so if you're looking for fun and football and cultural experiences you can probably just stop reading now, if anyone is actually reading this. Although I am being self-indulgent, I do hope that at least some of my German friends will read this so that they can see what I'm up to now. I'm sorry that I haven't been more in touch, guys, I haven't actively ignored you. I'm particularly bad at that. It's not that because I'm gone I don't care at all. I've just never been good with staying in touch.
To put it simply, my life has totally changed since I moved back from Germany. Using this as a first line is a huge cop-out, I know; my life was going to change totally no matter what. Moving from one stage of life (college) to the next and all that. But I do know that my experience affected me in so many different ways that I am now a fundamentally different (and, in my opinion, better) person. I'll focus on how those changes have taken place and impacted me a little later on, though, and for now I'll just provide a quick account of the main highlights of my life since I've been back.
Upon moving home to Chesterland, Ohio, I found myself living out every twenty-three year old's worst nightmare: living in my parents' basement. I didn't have a job or any real prospects at finding one right off the bat, and the room my brother and I shared growing up just isn't big enough for two grown people to live in. There's barely room for him in it as it is now. So I was struck by the bane of the millenial for a few months and had no privacy, no real alone time, and no place to call mine. And to top it off I was in Chesterland. In retrospect, this wasn't half as bad as it seemed to be, or a quarter as bad as people make it out to be. Free meals, familiar living quarters, loving roommates. That said, I'm not there any more dealing with it.
Thankfully the absence of a job was filled more quickly than anyone could have expected. Long story short, the first week I was home I ran into the father of one of my Kenyon friends and he told me that he wanted me to come work for him at his investment banking firm. Even though I had no real knowledge or background in the area, I told him that I was of course interested, needing to find a means to escape the basement and all, and throughout October I had a few phone calls and meetings and after the first week of November I was gainfully employed at Brown Gibbons Lang & Company as an Analyst for the Real Estate Advisory. I cannot express how thankful I am that I have been given the opportunity to have such an incredible first job, somewhere where I can learn invaluable skills and establish myself in the "real world" while working with truly good people. Through this job, I was able to lease a car, move out of my parents' house, become completely independent, and begin paying off my student loans, a large chunk of which have been paid in full. Whether I like it or not, I've realized that the adage that "it pays to know people" is completely true. Mike, the man who gave me the opportunity, also played football at Kenyon and is a member of the fraternity I am a member of, so I am quite aware of the connections that I made through my involvement in activities at school. I'm extremely fortunate in this sense, and I will never forget the opportunity I have been given.
Since January I have been living with a roommate in downtown Cleveland, Ohio. We have a pretty nice place, and living on my own has been a mostly painless experience. I was a bit nervous to start; because I went to a college with a four-year mealplan and then lived with the wonderful Monika cooking for me almost every day for lunch and dinner, I've never really had to fend for myself. But I've been good thus far, and I'm getting better with more experience. I enjoy living in a city; it's nice to walk outside your door and feel instantly connected with the rest of the world.
So now the hard part.
How have I been affected from my time abroad? For one thing, I grew up. I realize more and more that I was nothing more than a young kid before I took my trip. I was selfish, and immature, and surprisingly closed-minded for someone with such an accepting and open disposition. Part of this growth came from the consequences of graduating from school and the fact that I was physically out of the country for five months more than anything that actually happened over there, but I do believe that being there expedited what would likely have been a (more) lengthy and (more) painful process. Because I was there I was forced to accept truths that would have been easier to hide from in the familiar confines of home, even though those truths were particularly difficult to swallow. That's what I think is the biggest key to growing up: You have to realize that things that you don't want to happen are going to happen through no fault of your own (although let's be honest, probably your fault), that there is nothing that you or your parents or friends or mentors or anyone can do to change what happened or the aftermath of the situation, and that you don't have to be happy after whatever happened, but you do have to accept it. People who haven't grown up don't accept the new circumstances of their lives; people who are mature not only accept their new lives, they make them better than they were before. Things happened while I was in Germany and upon my immediate return, both large and small, that challenged me to take on this mantle of maturity. I saw others face challenges, fold entirely, and run away at the first opportunity while being similarly tested; I also saw others rise up and take command of their lives. I feel that this is something that I have been able to do, and I am living better for it.
Deeply connected with this new sense of maturity is arguably the greatest lesson that I learned abroad, a lesson that came not through any experience of my own, but simply through observation. While I was there, I learned what Love is. Not lowercase-l love, the type of thing expressed through flowers and chocolate and kisses and an arm thrown over another's shoulder; something much deeper and profound and life altering than that. I was reminded of this lesson early on the morning of March 8th when I was awoken by a message from my brother Eike Klietsch to tell me that his father Michael had passed away. To give a bit of context to those that have forgotten or don't understand the significance of this, Michael had survived a brain aneurysm fifteen years prior while visiting the U.S. From this, he was confined to a wheelchair and his cognitive functions were impaired, but speech and basic motor skills remained in his power. As the summer wore on, however, Michael's condition deteriorated. He went from speaking to me in English and attending our football games at the start of my time there to speaking to no one at all, requiring extended stays at the hospital. I never got to say goodbye to him because he was at the hospital when I left. Through this entire period, apart from physical therapy sessions and the time spent at the hospital, Monika, his wife, served as his primary caregiver. I lived with the Klietchs as a member of the family, which meant that I spent time with Michael and Monika and observed their relationship almost every day. The steadfast affection and devotion through nearly insurmountable obstacles shown by my Tigermom every day was astounding. I use the expression "nearly insurmountable" for a reason: because no matter what, Monika cared for Michael, unburdened, and showed everyone around the physical embodiment of the adverb "lovingly" with every single action she undertook. I learned that Love means that one is completely devoted to another person, and that if that becomes difficult, it is just another hurdle to overcome every day. Love isn't only a life-long phenomenon; it is an every day phenomenon. That's what I think the majority of people must not realize when they commit themselves to each other for any period of time. They can imagine being with the other person for the long haul, in the grand scheme of things; it's the day-in day-out challenges of devotion that prove to be too much. In Michael, I saw what Love is in his eyes when he looked at her. I heard it, when he was able to use it, in his voice. I even saw it when he would tease her and be difficult and look back at her innocently. When you can't exert your full capacity to communicate, your true meaning and intent shines through everything else. So I am thankful, now and always, that I was able to see those two interact and learn from them. I can only hope that my wife and I, should I ever convince anyone to entertain the thought of a life with me, will have half as much Love in our relationship as they had in theirs. Although it was not the first or only time I thought back upon these lessons, when Michael died I was reminded of them particularly. He and Monika taught Mitch and I these things, as well as countless others, I'm sure. This lesson of Love, among other things, are his legacy. Thank you.
Now that the really weighty stuff is out of the way, I can talk about less serious things. Like football. Even though it was what I went overseas to do, it really took a backseat to everything else. That's not to say I don't still love it. That's one thing I'm happy about: I never felt burned out. I still don't. I miss football every single day in some way or another. I loved watching it with a renewed passion once I got home, from my brother's high school games to Kenyon's small college games to big time college games that my brother-in-law was playing in to NFL games. Thankfully, I'll be able to live vicariously through those Curts; Curt will be on the football team at Kenyon next year and Curtis signed as a preferred undrafted free agent with the Cincinnati Bengals, so if all goes well they'll both be on the field next year in some way. But that's all I'll get from here on out. I'll only ever be a spectator or coach. Barring someone offering me a major contract, of course. But that won't happen. Life moves too fast to hold onto certain things if we're not actively moving with it. I accomplished everything that I wanted to (that I had the capacity to) playing football, and I went out playing at the highest level of my life on my own terms. I was contacted by two teams shortly after my return to the U.S., with the promise of a larger salary and new experiences, but I told them both I was done. This was after I got my current job, though, so who knows what I may have decided had I not had that commitment. One team was in Zurich, Switzerland. My Tiger teammates will get a laugh about the other team: the Hamburg Huskies. Needless to say I felt good about turning them down, guys. Tiger for life.
There was one thing that could have convinced me to consider Hamburg's offer, though. Kaye, who I wrote about in July as a friend that I visited when she came to Germany, is now much, much more than that. We maintained contact once I came home and things progressed from there. We are very happily now a couple and have been for some time. I visited her in Atlanta while she was there for Christmas and she came to me in Cleveland in April when she was able to come home, but she still lives outside of Hamburg training dressage horses and riding for a living. It isn't always easy because of the distance but it is always totally worth it. I feel so fortunate to have the type of relationship that we have, and couldn't be any happier. Unless she were closer to me, of course. But hopefully that will change in time.
That's about it for me. I'm sure that I'll be struck with more revelations regarding my experience abroad as time passes, but they won't necessarily need to be shared on this forum. I suppose I felt like I had stones left unturned after that last post in October, when I was totally overwhelmed by the gravity of everything. Unfortunately, I haven't been writing or reading as much as I'd like, but this has served as a nice outlet for a few nights and I feel like I've finally closed the last page in this book.
Lord willing, this won't be the last time you all hear from me.
Love to all.
Brett
