Corona diary of a mother: “Dear Ms. Merkel, I feel you!” – the solidary letter from a mother

Corona diary of a mother
“Dear Ms. Merkel, I feel you!” – a solidarity letter from a mother

Dear Mrs. Merkel,

A few days ago you stood behind your desk and did what had to be done: You apologized to all those who confused, discouraged and overwhelmed you with your Easter decision. Even if I’ve never had to apologize to a nation, I know the feeling you must have had. How often have I made half-baked decisions in the past few months simply because I had to make some kind of decision. And how often have I found out afterwards that it was the wrong one or the right one at the wrong time. Almost always when that happened, my children stood in front of me, their eyes sparkling with anger and I just thought: “I can’t either. I am only human.”

Somehow a mother too

Does the comparison between Chancellor and mother fit? Apparently not for many. Personally, I find the accusation that has often been heard that you are playing yourself as the mother of the nation, which treats the people like children, irritating. What would be wrong with that? In my world, the only bad thing about it is the idea of ​​how one treats or devalues ​​children. According to my understanding of relationship and equality between parents and children, there would be nothing disreputable about this comparison. As a mother, I try every day to find the right balance between the responsibility that I have and the legitimate interests of all my children. I always act to the best of my knowledge and belief in the interests of my family, do not want to incapacitate anyone or value anyone less than myself. I listen, then revise my thoughts and certainly do not perceive my children as underage or incompetent. Even so, it is my job and yours to make decisions.

I haven’t always been a fan of yours

To be honest, I don’t always agree with your decisions either. I think that a lot went wrong. It makes me helpless that my parents with heart disease are still waiting for their vaccination, that hairdressers should be more important than lessons because of the dignity and that we are sitting alone again at Easter because of the emergency brake, while the neighbors in Mallorca feast on tapas in the restaurant. I would give you and your colleagues my opinion on a number of things if you were standing in front of me. But here and now I am not concerned with hard facts or political consensus. It’s not about my anger either, but about what my teenage daughter calls “I feel you”. She always says that when she manages to empathize with me and empathize with my inner struggle. Whenever she realizes for a brief moment of maturity that, despite all my fallibility, I want the best for her and that I am willing to pay a lot for it. Also – very often – enduring their anger. Just like my big girl with me, I see in you what these times demand from you, what you achieve and how difficult it must be to keep your nerve. In short: Ms. Merkel, I can feel you!

The rediscovery of compassion

Basically, as the addressee of the letter, you are almost a bit arbitrary. Because you are just a cog in the whole. I could have addressed these lines to Mr Spahn, for example. I felt him so much when he said that sometimes he would lie down on the floor at home just to calm down. Or the virologists. I always feel it when they revise their opinion based on new discoveries and then have to justify themselves for not having been omniscient at all times. Not that you should be spared all of this. Of course you have to put up with that, because a variety of opinions corresponds to the basic democratic idea. But from a very emotional point of view: parents know all of this. The exhausted lying on the floor, the revision of an assessment including all subsequent allegations, the apology for it and the feeling of not being able to please everyone. When I look at the political reports of the day, on the one hand there is anger, fear, excessive demands and sadness about our plans. But there is something else. Something important: compassion.

We can all no longer

In the end, we will all have to hold on. Every evening I will try to lift the worries of the children out of their heads, I will do more every day than one can actually do, argue with the teenage girl, keep the baby from falling down the stairs, explain math to the two middle children, Grandma- I miss-so-dry tears and feel ashamed that lunch was once again only enough for frozen pizza. I will sometimes feel lonely, alone and burned out and still survive in the end. I am sure you are all too familiar with this range of emotions. But despite all the lack of understanding about specific decisions, I will feel you all this long way. Your self-doubt, your fatigue, and your greatness in apologizing to a nation. Your humanity, your efforts and your strength to get up and move on every single morning despite all the hostility.

This is really inspiring! Thank you! Your Marie Stadler