Today would have been my father’s 94th birthday. He died May 12th, 2022. By now I’ve gained enough emotional distance to think about him with calm, almost happy, feelings.
When your dad has a page on Wikipedia Wilhelm Brenig it can be hard to find your own path in life. There is really no way you can live up to expectations – be it your own, or your family’s, or your friends’, your colleagues’…..
When I was just a child, I simply grabbed his hand and tried to keep up with his long, fast-paced strides. A rather futile endeavour, since my father had clear goals for his future and no patience to wait, or slow down, for anybody.
I learned that sitting around waiting doesn’t get you anywhere. I also learned, much later in life, that you’re missing out on a great deal of beautiful moments if you’re always on the run.
Physics was his life. He breathed quantum mechanics. Hundreds, if not thousands, of students listened to his lectures. I admired the clarity of his thoughts and the depth of his knowledge – wondering if there was room for anything other than physics in his mind. I worked hard in school, but never hard enough. Not being an obvious genius in one specific subject, like my father was, I tried out dozens of different things – and ended up knowing a little bit about all of them.
I learned that, to be really good at something, you have to focus on that one thing exclusively. I also learned, much later in life, that you can have a lot of fun doing different things, even if you’re not an expert.
It took me a long time to realize, that my father had slowed down enough for me to catch up with him. He retired, he didn’t travel as much and as far anymore, he didn’t lecture anyone anymore. He would actually let me walk right besides him, not a step or two behind. I realized that I am more like him than what I’d dare to admit. There are pictures of myself that remind me of dad’s face.
I learned that I can’t escape my genes, no matter how hard I try. I also learned, much later in life, to just accept the hand I’ve been dealt and make the most of it.
When my father left quietly and peacefully, just going to bed one evening and not waking up the next morning, I was grateful for the opportunity that I had been given to support him during the last few years of his long, successful life.
Danke, Papi.