The stories from my parents about a europe in war. How my grandfather was imprisoned as a soldier in France. How my father left his home in todays Poland as a refugee with his parents. How Hamburg, the home from my mother, was bombed and burned down. My parents used to link those stories to the todays peaceful situation. A constant happy ending: The story of a Europe that guarantees us prosperity and peace.
The stories about those crazy and funny cross border TV Shows or sports events. It starts in the early fifties and there is no end. Eurovision Song Contest or "Einer wird gewinnen" with Grandma on the sofa. Seeing people from other european states on TV. Different languages. The typical landmarks and sightseeing attractions from the european capitals.
The stories about me visiting France as a school boy. Living in a french family for a week. Learning French and learning all about the history of the dark relationship between Germany and France.
The story about that one big day holding the first Euro coins in my hands. Excitement. No more borders. Going to Danmark or France or The Netherlands without waiting time when crossing the borders. I forget for a moment the nasty story about this big machine of capitalism that is being fired by this european megastructure.
The story about later being abroad and looking from outside on this continent: until today feeling strongly that my past is linked with more than just Germany but also the other european countries. Feeling more as a citizen from Europe than only from Germany. In the meantime having great friends from other european countries - especially the UK - with a lot more stories to tell.
With the todays news all these stories and images appear. And it causes a bold feeling of sadness. But for one day only.
I will continue believing in those blue signs with the yellow stars next to the border posts. I will continue telling my children the great stories about my and their Europe. And that these stories needs to be continued.