Not the date...

I have thought about you every day, and yesterday, of course, I thought of you. I told Gina that I feel you are a big part of my life, still, and it's not just the date that brings you to mind. Of course, it's hard to believe a year has gone by. Mostly because I have been so inspired by you. And yet, somehow my plans remain unfulfilled. I hope you are not disappointed. But I have a feeling you would not have felt that way, if you were here to talk to me about it.

I wish I could have gone to Mass with Mom and Paul last night. Oh well, I guess we all remember in our own way. I know that Berto has his own way of remembering. He would never post to this blog. Each of us holds you in his/her heart.

Difficult day for me

Well, I guess I am the only person still posting on this blog. Today, it's been a year since you left us and it still seems unreal. I've thought of you hundreds of times over this past year. At family gatherings, at birthdays, on Father's Day, in Italy and Paris, at home, in Church, everywhere, really. I still want to pick up the phone and call you to find out how you are. I realize I can't do that, then I wonder who is living in your lovely apartment in Santa Monica. I'm sure it's not the same anymore. No classical music, no beautiful paintings, no books.... We all have bits and pieces of your life in our homes, it's a small comfort. I have regrets about not seeing you more often, not helping you more when I could have, not taking you to the doctor's myself so I could find out how to care for you. Most of the time I feel you just wanted to be alone till the end and not bother anyone. You were never a bother, Dad. Felicia, Erika and Matt all miss you too. They often speak of you and feel privileged to have known you during the time they were growing up. And now Fred is gone too. Maybe you two are having a scotch today. Please think of us, down here, dealing with all the drudgery of every day life. Always working, paying bills, hassling with traffic... it's a real riot down here. Ha ha ha.

Well, Paul and I are going to Mass later. I guess it's a comfort for us to pray that you are happy in heaven, with God, and your parents and Fred, and many others you've known in your life.

I miss you, Dad. I know I always will and the 9th of December will always be hard for me.

love, illie

Bella Italia

Wow, what an experience and what a glorious country! I thought of you every day, Dad. Especially in Venice and Florence. I know that you walked those same streets and piazzas. I felt your presence at the museums while I marveled at the works of Michelangelo, Botticelli, Caravaggio, Bernini, Giotto and many others. I wish I could talk to you now that I've returned and discuss with you how marvelous these cities are. I know that you can feel my spirit and I wanted to thank you for introducing me to the art, architecture and culture of those fabulous cities. Erika took my photo on the piazza San Marco in Venice and I remembered Omama. There are so many more people there now than when she was photographed. Erika and I drank many a toast to you and your loving soul. I still miss you very much and I know that no matter how much time passes, I will continue to miss you. Much love while you wait for there rest of us. illie

Freddo, Elo and Ela, and all the others

Alec always says that he's going to Heaven to see Elo and Ela. There were times in the past when I chuckled over his vision of heaven. But actually if I'm honest, I admit I believe in the afterlife. I don't believe there's a place called "Heaven" which exists somewhere in spatio-temporal reality. After all, if that were the case then we'd be able to find it. I think when people die they leave behind spatio-temporal reality. Become energy or some other spiritual form. But certainly the soul, whatever it is, continues to exist. I believe this to be true.

Ever since you've been gone Grandpa, my life has changed in incredible ways. When you left it made me re-think everything. But now Freddo is gone too. Honestly I am not handling it well. I'm pretty darn moody, which is unlike me. I'm going through so many moods I don't recognize myself right now. My mood can change in a split second.

I think that I'm starting to like Alec's idea. It makes me imagine... I'm hoping that you and Freddo are up there in Heaven, together. You're having a scotch and he's having a beer, and you're telling each other dirty jokes. Maybe you're looking down on all of us and you're laughing and you're smiling and you're wishing we knew how little it all matters. You're wishing you could tell us all to "get over it!" Or maybe you are having too much fun to pay attention to any of us down here! Maybe leaving this reality behind was a huge relief for you both. Maybe Elo and Ela are there, and all the others, and you're having one big party around a big, wide, blue swimming pool in Heaven.

June 2008

Today when I opened the front door to get my newspaper, which is usually near the door, I found your old FIDM bag that Paul is using to bring your mail over. It's been over a month since Paul brought any mail for you, so I thought it was winding down, but I was wrong. The bag was totally full and heavy, several magazines had arrived I guess, including the Interior Design Magazine and two issues of National Geographic. There were so many solicitations for money. I still marvel at how many people and organizations you must have sent checks to that they are still asking month after endless month for more. You were such a generous man, almost to a fault, since in your last years you had so little money. Only 3 requests for payment for old accounts. One to the estate. I promptly wrote across that letter that there is no estate. They don't listen to me.....
I wanted to write here on Father's Day, but I guess it was too emotional a day for me. I remembered how last year on Father's Day Felicia and I took you to lunch in Santa Monica. How hard it was to find parking because they were having some type of fair or something. I remember how Felicia waited with you by the sidewalk while I went to get the car. We had a nice lunch and good conversation, as always. I wonder what happened to those two new golf shirts I bought you? I guess Fred must have taken them along with all the other clothes. Weird !!
Well, Dad. Tons of reminders of you every day exist in my life. I keep wondering why I work in the field I do when I couldn't even help you in your last years. I also wish I had followed your career path in Interior Design, which is much more fun. I am watching Design Star these days on HGTV and I'm jealous of those young people. I question the choices I've made in my life. And here, soon, it will be my birthday again....
I miss you. :-) illie

Tell us a story about German Sonntag.

This blog was meant to be a place for friends and family to share their memories. I am hoping that someone will share a story about my grandfather. I sure would love to read it and others would too.

Dad

This afternoon I really miss Dad. For unknown reasons, he is in my thoughts. I wanted to write down some adjectives I think of when I think of Dad.
Thoughtful, caring, loving, generous, kind, non-judgmental, artistic, creative, peaceful, happy, fun, appreciative, intelligent, independent, and always in my heart.
Life is not the same without him......

What was something German taught you that no one else could?

Open question to readers of this blog.

Today I miss him more than usual

Today I *miss* my grandfather.

I have been missing him for months but today it's hitting me hard.

I would like so much if I could travel back in time and talk to him. I think he was the only person in the world, literally, who would've been able to understand how I feel at this moment. It makes it especially hard, now that I realize what he and I had in common. Why didn't I ever think about it before? Was I too young when he was still young enough to talk to? I guess I was. I thought of him as Grandpa and now I really want to talk to German. Damn. Damn!

I am angry, too! I will admit it. I am angry that you're gone. I suppose that is part of the stages of grieving. Or some such pop psychology b.s.

Thank G-d for the blog, it's the only outlet.

Time keeps moving on....

Tonight I talked to Mary. She is getting over the flu. Me too. I got the flu this year and I'm not sure why. I guess some years it's our turn to get a bug. I'm feeling better. Mary and I will probably get together next week when I travel to Pasadena to see Felicia. I have all those pictures you saved from your trip with her and Vance and Maureen to give her. She was happy that I called, I think. We both miss you so much, Dad. Work and life keeps us busy, but we never forget how much you meant to us and what a large part of our lives you were. Love you. :-)

Letter from FIDM Library Director.

FIDM and their library

I received a wonderful letter the other day from the Director of the Library at FIDM, Los Angeles. They have placed all your books that were donated by Bert (and John Crosse) in the library for use by the students. It's wonderful. I will be going soon to check it out. I decided to scan the letter and post it here for all to read.
Still thinking of you often, Dad and wish you were here to chat with me. Love, illie

"Knowing" Dad

Felicia, I think you knew your grandfather quite well. He was private about many of his feelings, but he also let people know his fun side, his intellectual side, his professional side, his loving side. Many of his children didn't and maybe still don't feel he loved them. I disagree. Dad loved all of us very much, he just didn't show it all the time. He had unconditional love for his kids, and that is the best kind.
I, myself, really appreciate this blog for Dad and I hope you never decide to delete it. I like to check on it weekly and see if there are any posts. I don't know why people don't post, maybe they forget, or maybe they don't like to write much. Maybe they have nothing to say. I don't feel that a blog is unaristocratic. And who are these aristocrats that are being critical? Who's an aristocrat these days? besides the Rockerfellers? Whatever.....
Dad would be so against such a judgment!
Well, schlunk.... I have to get back to work! Miss you, Dad. :-)

Important Realization

This morning I did a lot of writing. A LOT. For some reason today was the day that everything, all my insights and experiences of the past year (2007) came together and made sense and cohered. So I wrote a lot. I always write on the weekends, but today I wrote a miniature book. I think I have enough material to expand it into a full book. And because I am on a roll, and because so much of it had to do with you, Grandpa, I am now writing a blogger entry about it. And I thought, Should I continue to write to this blog? This blog that only a few people are following? This blog that was probably mostly for me, from the beginning? This blog that was supposed to be a place for family to write about you? This blog that is probably watched by more people in Argentina than by people in my own country? Then I thought, Why not?
So here's the thing I realized about you this morning, Grandpa. Actually, more than one thing. 1. I realized that you were not someone who needed to be public about who you were. I was thinking about how little I knew you during your life, and how I feel that I have learned all about you only since you passed away. I have been feeling bad about that, wishing I had talked with you more when you were alive. I'm not saying I didn't know you at all, but there were so many things I didn't know about you. I knew you in only one way, I guess. When there was so much more to you that I didn't know at all. But today I realized that you were not one who needed people to know everything. You were not in the habit of publicizing yourself, publicly "declaring" who you were, everything you thought about, your "beliefs." You kept a lot of it private, and you felt no need to make a "statement" about yourself for all and sundry. So, this means, I realized, that you and I are O.K. It's ok that I didn't know everything about you when you were alive, because you didn't need that. You were alright with me not knowing all about you. So there is no reason for me to feel bad about it. 2. I realized that it is possible to have a relationship with someone after death. I have heard about this before, but I always thought it was weird. Now I am beginning to understand. The way it is possible to love someone without them knowing that you love them. This is eerily similar. But also you are still giving me things, you are still adding to my life, and so it's not one-sided. Except, I can't say thank you, unless this blog post counts as a thank you. 3. I've heard this blogging activity is very un-aristocratic. I wonder if being forgiving would also be called un-aristocratic. (In the sense of a value system, not an economic/class system.) I believe that you, Grandpa, were extremely forgiving and generous with people, and I'm going to continue to forgive and love people who don't forgive me, I'm going to be generous with people who are not generous with me - Not because it's "Christian," but because I believe that it's beneath my dignity to hold a grudge. In a way, I think it is un-aristocratic to be uncharitable to people -- to say they are unworthy. It is more undignified to be unforgiving, in other words.
Also, I think that you have taught me how it is possible to hold one's self in highest esteem - to love oneself - and, at the same time, to be generous to others. In fact one might say you have brought aristocratic and Christian value systems together, although this is probably an imaginative stretch. I am still thinking this one out. But blogging feels good and so does forgiving. I'm trusting my instincts.
P.S. For those who are reading this, I must clarify that this blogging is substantially different from the usual blogging which is done "in public" in the truest sense. This blog is NOT public, not searchable to Google and not known by anyone except for family members. So in a sense, while I might agree that traditional blogging, the confession of feelings to the masses, is un-aristocratic, I don't feel that this particular blog falls into such a category. It is a reminiscence, and was meant to be a shared reminiscence between members of one particular family. (Although many - most - have chosen not to participate in it, so it has become something else, other than what was intended.)
It is also a tribute, and in that sense, above all others, it is untraditional blogging. I write what I write with a particular audience in mind. And if what I do crosses into the realm of the creepy and "weird," then let's consider it a creative act, and nothing more, and nothing less.

Today Mom and I drove up Mt. Wilson, almost to the very top. We drove as far as we could drive. Unfortunately there was a big locked gate blocking the road to the very top, so we were not able to go through there and park in the place where we were supposed to meet Berto, Gabi and Gary. (None of us knew that the observatory is closed until April!) Not knowing where the big parking lot was, we just parked in the nearest parking lot we could find.

The mountain was awesome. I rarely get to see a sight like this. It was a stunningly clear day, beautiful and bright. The wind was cold up there on the mountain, but the scent of pines is the sweetest scent in the world.

We went to scatter your ashes, Grandpa, and to say a last farewell. This was Berto's thought, and for this I am grateful to him. We did not scatter all of your ashes into the wind because of the mix-up. But still, we gave you a nice moment.

Mom and I drove until we found a perfect vantage point where we released some of the ashes. The dust blew into the wind and over the treetops. We said, “Goodbye, Dad,” and “Goodbye, Grandpa.”

Here is the view where we let your ashes disappear and become part of the universe.

(Click on the images to see larger size.)

And here are just a few more images that I am posting in order to share the experience we had on the mountain. Mom and I took these pictures while we waited and while we looked around for Gabi, Gary and Berto. It was sad to us that we could not meet up with them like we wanted to. Mom was in a sad mood on the drive home, down the mountain. I don't want you to think that we were entirely cheerful. However, we felt that we would make the best of it and enjoy the gorgeous views and natural wonders. Regarding locations, the two close-ups of Mom and me were taken near where we had parked our car, by the Red Box Picnic Area... And the others were taken when we were driving and looking around - we stopped at a trailhead where we explored a little, while we talked to other hikers about the trails leading up the mountain.

I couldn't help but enjoy the wonders of the sight I was seeing, and appreciate the day. Grandpa, I believe that you would have appreciated it too... As Mom and I discussed today, we both feel that we inherited your tendency to be in a good mood, most of the time, naturally!

We love you. We miss you. No matter how many days or months (or years) pass since you left us, we will be thinking of you!!!

Fotos de Marta

I am posting some more photos that I received from Marta, by way of Gerda T. (sorry for the delay in posting).
These are fantastic, thank you so much for sharing them! (Also if you click on the image you can see a bigger one, I think.)
Love, Felicia

Recuerdo de German (from Gerda Trementino)

Desde Buenos Aires,
quiero transmitirles a toda mi familia de Usa parte de los buenos recuerdos que tenemos de los momentos compartidos con Pibe en sus venidas a esta ciudad. Fue una persona fuera de serie, siempre alegre y divertido, nunca de mal humor. En el año 1993 vino con nosotros a Bariloche donde estuvimos todos compartiendo una casa y realmente fueron 15 días maravillosos, donde recorrimos paisajes encantadores y sacó cantidad de fotos que seguramente encontraron.

En sus venidas a San Miguel era de rigor visitar La Positiva, un restaurant al que siempre vamos. Le gustaba la comida del lugar y tenía un mozo que lo atendía cada año que lo visitaba. En el 2006 festejamos su cumpleaños en este lugar con Rosemary y sus chicos. Todos recordaremos las fiestas de Navidad compartidas en San Miguel y algunos asados que hacía Carlos. Ayer extrañé su llamado que siempre hacía para mi cumpleaños.

Les mando una fotos con su familia de Argentina. Seguramente deben estar entre todas las que tenía de sus diferentes viajes, pero estas son algunas de las que él nos mandaba.

Muchos cariños y estaremos siempre en contacto. Si alguna vez vienen a Bs. As. los recibiremos con mucho cariño. Un abrazo para todos por allá, Gerda

Email from a friend of Dad's

Message: I'm sure you already know that your father was one of the classiest and most talented men in the interior design community. He was also one of the least self-serving people I ever had the privilege to meet.

Although I knew German through FIDM and various associations, he was always gracious and expressed pleasure when we met, whether at a deign function or just in one of the many showrooms.

He will indeed be missed, but I am sure his influence and encouragement will long fuel the creativity of many of his students and associates.

In sympathy for you and yours,

Sharon de Leon
Design Portfolio
Santa Monica, CA.

saw you in a dream

Hi Grandpa, I saw you in a dream last night. You were sitting on the couch in our old Melotte Street house and my mom was there and so was Gerda. And we were all watching videotapes (yes on the VCR) - some kind of old home movies from Argentina (that don't exist in real life). Anyway the thing I loved most about the dream is that you were you, just as I remember you, as you looked most of the time, round-faced and smiling, and it felt like it was just another visit from you - it wasn't a sad occasion, nobody was stressed or depressed - you weren't dying - we were all just hanging out. It was sweet. You were telling all kinds of anecdotes about scenes from the videos, and laughing with Gerda over good memories.

I miss you.

Love, Felicia

If you have thoughts to add, send them to me or click 'comments'

You can send them to fpalsson@usc.edu. I will post them for you.
Or, you can click "comments" to add your thoughts there.
Thanks everyone.

Moving On

Well, I guess it's time to move on......
This weekend we partied with Mary and all your friends from FIDM. It was fun, festive and we missed you. Everyone there had a host of stories and wonderful things to say about you, Dad. But, who would expect anything different. You were loved and respected by everyone you met. I met artists and designers, faculty and students. All of them loved you. It was your birthday and truly a celebration of your life. Mary, thank you!!

Then on Sunday we paid tribute in a more serious way. Mariana spoke of your love of music and played "Sarabande" from French Suite, No. 3 by Bach, on the piano. Alberto was wonderful as he described your charm and wit. He's had a very difficult time losing you. He made us all very proud as he stood there, so handsome and eloquent and spoke about you. It was tough not to break down. Erika read a favorite poem of yours, "Love Calls Us to the Things of This World" by Richard Wilbur. She loves poetry and I know she was honored to read something you had marked. Then many of your friends and clients spoke of your talent and art. There were testimonials of your work and how very gifted you were in design and architecture. One woman said she had hired 4 different architects and didn't like any of their work. Then she met you and she had an instant bond. There were friends there also from Santa Monica and Pacific Palisades. Everyone told me that you were a joy to be with and told stories of how they met you, dined with you, traveled with you. It was wonderful to see how many people were touched by you.

I had a difficult time wrapping things up. I didn't want to sound like a sad little girl. Although that is how I feel. I thanked everyone for coming and then offered some refreshments. Oh well... C'est la vie.

We did play Stardust for you. Although not as loud as I would have liked.
The flower arrangement was absolutely gorgeous. You would have loved it. Filled with white stock and red roses. They got it right, this time!!

Love you, Dad!! Big hug!

Poem from a friend

Ode to German Sonntag
by Edward Lee Goldstein, MA, MS, RPT.

Sadly, I did not know German well, but I knew his heart. A
lover of the arts, design, music—the love of all culture is
what set this passionate man apart.
What he liked, he really liked. And what he didnʼt like?
Trust me, he was always right! Just ask him.
At Carol and Richard Kingʼs salons, a thousand slides we
eagerly would bear. Accompanied by Bach and Handel,
and an art historian extraordinaire. And yes, I feel honored
to have heard Germanʼs take on the best humanity had to share.

While sharing his gifts from Historyʼs past, accompanied by love and song, German
generously gave all he had to give. Filling our senses with remarkable moments to recall,
moments, which will blossom and live our whole lifeʼs long.
As he now conducts his own salons in Heaven, to educate the hordes of appreciative
angels standing by his side, Iʼm sure heʼs delivering a mosaic of joy, art, design, architecture,
and music . . . plus a thousand slides.
Sublimely touching family, friends, and strangers with his love and common sense,
German, youʼll always be remembered as a special, inspiring, kindly man—a man of
heart, substance and benevolence.

Message received from HGTV

Message: I was the producer of Designers'
Challenge. It was such an honor to
have your dad on the show. I am so
glad that we got to show the viewers
what an artist he was. I am so sorry for
your loss.

Sincerely,

Stacy Schneider

We'll all lose weight in 2008?

Things will be great,
We'll all lose weight,
We'll celebrate,
and masticate, pontificate, and contemplate,
anticipate...
Two thousand eight!

My friend Sara says you're cute

You know, Dear Grandpa, I was looking at some photographs yesterday at work. And my friend Sara and I were getting ready to go to the basketball game (we won) and when she saw your photos she said you're cute. You're the type she would have a crush on, she said. I thought that was very interesting. It made me smile.

Tonight, I am thinking about the time you gave me some advice, in the romance department. I have never forgotten it.

And I am also thinking about how, even though you're gone, you're not gone, because I can always talk to you in my mind. I can tell you how Sara thought you're cute, and I can hear your laugh, and I can hear you telling me exactly what it is that draws people together, and suddenly...

Suddenly all my fears and concerns about myself and my love life can disappear, in light of what you taught me.

Thank you.

A Wonderful Dream

Last night I dreamt that Dad was alive. It was so great to see him again, full of spirit and laughter. He said he had lots to do and got up off the bed and began to live life again. It was bittersweet waking up and realizing he really is gone. But in my mind, I'll always see him waking up and starting his day. A few days before he died I was able to have a nice talk with Dad. I told him that he had always been a wonderful father to me and to us all. I let him know that he always gave his children love and affection and a great legacy of giving to others. After I told him this he said, "Well, schlunk, that being said, I think I'll take a nap". Sweet dreams, Dad. illie