A Tribute to my Grandfather – Felix Bauer

My grandfather died today. I arrived back at the hostel to receive the news via email from my father. I can’t go home to be with my family to morn his death. I mourned the death of his parents, aunts, uncles, and cousins today at Auschwitz, and now I morn for him.

Felix Bauer: Do you have someone in your life that you are proud to know personally? Do you know someone who makes you feel special just because you know how amazing they are, and they are a part of your life? This begins to describe how I feel about my grandfather.

He would give the strongest hugs and then throw you away from him as if to say, “here is your hug, now let’s go do something fun.” As a child, I traveled to Austria, among other places, with him. He showed me where he grew-up, where he was educated, and where he was driven out by hate. He never stopped loving Vienna and it cafés with strong coffee and sweet tortes.

Grandpa wrote and illustrated my birth announcement. He made Colin and me the most beautiful rocking horse when we were toddlers. He would listen to me talk endlessly and shake his head at my parents as if to say, “you poor souls have to listen to her all the time – she wears me out.” Spend the nights were complete with evening Jeopardy and the Wheel of Fortune. He would go to bed earlier than everyone else because he would wake every morning at 5am to compose music. At breakfast, he would always tell Colin to spread honey on his toast by first smearing it on the walls and then mopping it up with his bread. He did this purely to get a rise out of Omi, and it never ceased working.

Grandpa was known for his art and music, his German accent, his wit, his ability to teach and entertain, crossword puzzles, and New Years Eve dinners. He loved the Opera and my dad. He traveled with friends and family, and his two grandchildren. He always gave my Omi yellow roses and me the brightest smile when I played a piece well on the cello. Grandpa skied the alps as a child, rode horses and farmed for years in the Dominican Republic, and lived, worked, and created a family in South Carolina. For only 25 of his 92 years, I was a part of his life, and for this I count myself very privileged.

In three days, I will be in his Vienna, and though I cannot be with my family, I will be with him in his hometown.

– Kendra