"In many ways, I've always felt I was standing with one foot in the reality of this world and the other in the eternal unknown of our existence. But I am still fully living in this life. I feel the pain and I feel the joy."
She writes of her second great-grandson born in this country. "He will of course be born in America as an American citizen, with a somewhat predictable future of a life that will be satisfying and constructive. This is a great development for this family that came from Nazi Germany and was slated not to survive."
Her daughter Karen is my good friend. I can't imagine if she were not to have survived.
She continues: "There is a beautiful engraving by Holbein showing Death dancing gracefully and merrily amongst a crowd of people, and it is entitled, "The Dance of Death." I would say that my last year represents the mood of that picture: a great deal of joy, a great deal of activity, and a great deal of loss. At this point, I don't know anyone older than I am.
What puzzles me particularly these last few years is the question of what grows old. I'm noticing, of course, that my body grows old, but my feelings, my desires, my hopes and my wishes seem to be just as they always were. I feel as much love for my family and friends as ever. I still can get attracted to handsome men. I love excitement and conversation, and beauty can make me cry as it always did. I look out at the sunset and it brings tears to my eyes."
A film was made of Annemarie's life, in gratitude.
Oh, my, you can see her on youtube, see an excerpt from the film Across Time and Space.