The pipe mill and the Volksgut, where Andreas worked as an agricultural technician after completing his military service, were in the same town, which was also called ‘the gateway to the Harz mountains’.
Despite the close proximity, we saw each other only rarely, because Andi did not yet have his own apartment. He had no contact with Thomas and thought that his brother was continuing his apprenticeship as an agricultural technician in an LPG in Mecklenburg.
But that was a huge mistake, as we both learned months later. For Chris and me, working at the pipe mill and the nuclear power plant was a happy time.
The consulting appointments were fixed a month in advance, and Chris thus got the opportunity to schedule her days off at the hospital so that she could always accompany me.
I had two days for the business trips because of the long distance. With a few weather-related exceptions, we managed to be back home by midnight at the latest on the same day. We used the following day off to make progress in the apartment.
Step by step, things started to happen. After a year of waiting, I was able to pick up four new windows for the balcony and install them before winter set in.
This reduced the heat loss in the apartment considerably. The annoying stove problem was solved unexpectedly: Chris’s sister became pregnant.
With a strong petition to KWV, we threatened to lose the baby’s health if we didn’t get new stoves immediately. That helped. The stove setters arrived, and each rental area got a beautiful hot-air tile stove. One of them equally heated the living room and the future nursery.
Gradually it became more livable, but I realized that I had to decide, because under my current living conditions, the main problems at the house could not be solved.
It was time to clear the air. The embarrassing incident about the color TV accelerated my decision.
I packed up some personal belongings and went to Chris’ old villa, not knowing whether we would succeed in saving the dilapidated building from decay.
I left the newly built house and the solidly furnished apartment behind with no regrets, even though I had worked extremely hard for them.
Days later, when I went to pick up some important papers I had forgotten in a hurry, and at least the black-and-white TV, clever Sylvie had already had the lock on the apartment door changed. I was quickly and smoothly divorced from Sylvia.
According to her description before the judge, I had left my wife and child without any compelling reason and had moved in with another woman. I did not object, what was the point?
My hope to at least raise our daughter together by mutual agreement remained a pious wish, because a few weeks after the divorce she enforced a name change.
Jacky and I were not asked. According to the laws of the GDR, the change of name was possible even without the consent of the biological father. However, Sylvia did not apply for adoption, because then Jacqueline’s stepfather would have had to take over all custody rights.
I knew some people in my circle of acquaintances who had kept their respect for each other after their divorce and raised their children together on good terms.
I envied these people and their children from the bottom of my heart. 𝓣𝓸 𝓑𝓮 𝓒𝓸𝓷𝓽𝓲𝓷𝓾𝓮𝓭…
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