It was nice to be back in Germany. It looks like that I'm a little bit like a friend from Iran. As longer I travel through the world as more I'm missing the good old Germany. But this time the visit at home was not so nice. My grandfather whom I saw the last time before a friend and I travelled to Ukraine was in a coma after a very difficult scull operation. Yesterday I visited him. I was a shocked. It was him for sure, but he looked like a machine with my grandfathers skin. The hightech around his bed was keeping him alive. I had no chance to talk with him about my travel to the Ukraine. I wanted to do this, because my grandpa knows this country. He was there during the war and so he was really interested when he heart, that I wanted to go there. But yesterday he was sleeping deeply. And I have no idea, if I could ever tell him from my experiences in the former soviet union. According to the doctors his body is breathing a little bit and the support of the machine is needed. But as soon they stop the medication to keep him in the coma he is not waking up. This is now a situation I often heart about. Without knowing the involved people a decision seemed always all to easy. Now I see my grandfather. I see my grandmother, I observe his childs, my mother, my uncle, my aunt. I hear what doctors saying, nuns standing beside the bed, all of them still hopeful but expecting the worst. It is strange to stay there in the intensive care station 1F. I was unable to look at my grandma or grandpa. So I watched the machines. Even for a strong guy it is painful to watch the mighty Nemesis called nature doing its final task, mankind only able to delay it for a very short time.