My Mom, Ingeborg Maria Hinderschiedt: June 18, 1929 – December 7, 2013
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Some of the great songs she loved-
Ingeborg Maria Hinderschiedt (Aprile) 1929-2013
Professor Emerita of German and Classics
Ph D. – University of Wisconsin-Madison
- June 18 1929
- December 7th, 2013
Ingeborg Maria Hinderschiedt, was born in Donau Eschingen, Germany and graduated at the top of her class at Heidelberg University. She moved to the United States in 1956 and received her Ph D from the University of Wisconsin, and then proceeded to a lengthy career as a professor at Purdue University.
Her love for books, animals, purity of theoretical argument, and the root of language as an art, is legendary. Countless academics that follow her footsteps shall never forget her.
She lived her life on principle, was stubborn to a fault, and embarrassingly funny. She could laugh at the foibles in life- and yet was a humanist that touched all she encountered. She had “that something” so many of us want- and so few of us find.
To have had the honor of engaging her in an afternoon or evening of lengthy conversation, will be for many, something they shall always recall with a sense that something special had been in the air.
A truly great woman is lost to us today, as she was in a class of her own.
She is survived by her son, Frank-Diether Aprile, his wife, Kashmir Aprile, her grand daughter Maria Ann Aprile, and she has four adopted grandchildren, A’brehn, Naya, Justin, and Kimberly.
She left life- as she chose to live it… “Doing it My Way”.
Maria & Me
Click image above to view Maria’s (grand daughter) blog http://mariaaprile.com/
Let me tell you about my mom…
- What was she best at?
- Being brave for others.
- She was best @ : Making you pay attention to music.
- She was best @ : Challenging you.
- She was best @ : When you were down- Bringing you up.
- She was best @ : Never allowing you to quit.
- She was at her best- when things were the worst.
A very funny and insightful story from one of her fellow colleagues 🙂
“Ingeborg was one of a kind. She didn’t suffer fools gladly, which could be annoying if you disagreed with her about who the fools were, especially if you happened to be one of them. But she was also broadminded and bighearted enough to reconsider initial impressions or ones created over the course of a relationship. She was a loyal, if not uncritical, colleague and friend, the best kind. She had a very impressive and varied academic background before coming to the U.S., having studied under some major figures in German philosophy and Germanistik. She brought that and her native intelligence and discipline to bear on her work at Madison, which paid off in a book that received, if memory serves, nine uniformly laudatory reviews, in a discipline in which reviewers frequently proceed according to the principle expressed by one as follows: “Das Gute versteht sich von selbst” (What’s good about the book is self-evident. i.e., needs no commentary). She also brought that background and those qualities to bear on her work in the classroom and in committees. If her demeanor was severe at times, occasionally frightening students and colleagues alike, it concealed great sensitivity, even vulnerability. It’s that Ingeborg that I’ll remember.
Another Ingeborg story, of sorts, at least one that she liked to tell. She had an African grey parrot and a dog named Solomon (!), among many other animals. In a real sense that parrot became Ingeborg, or Ingeborg became the parrot, it amounted to the same thing. The parrot learned to “do” Ingeborg so well that it would give Solomon orders, and Solomon would obey them, whether Ingeborg happened to be in the room or not. I’ve often chuckled, imagining the bird saying, in Ingeborg’s still German accented English, “Solomon, bring me the newspaper,” and the dog obediently fetching it. Or maybe the parrot was bilingual.”
We are not born alone …
We are born amazed.
A completely pristine white page of talent waiting to be uncreased and unfurled to the end of all that we can see that is that history of ours, yet to be heralded, yet to be written and a grand suggestion of a future history that has no ink or footprints, unrolling to a canvas as of yet- unexplored.
It is that book we are to become, that will someday rest on a shelf in a library to be read by others or perhaps to be ignored.
We suggest ourselves to the world, and wait for a response. We declare our beginning and live a great life.
In the end it really is the end.
All that is left is the last part of the sentence- “They are gone”.
That really does say it all. As a metaphor for who inspires your Life …
But it is the way it is said, the way it is remembered that puts the last earmark on the page.
It is the oddest things that people leave behind. Better said, it is the oddest things that people give to others, things that aren’t carelessly missed or forgotten. A peculiar way of seeing things, saying things, or hating things. It is their predictability to situations that arise, the songs they love, the people they inspired that speaks for them now- when they can no longer speak.
People make a difference when they are unlike you- but affect you to become a little more like them.
That isn’t to say that you have been swayed or changed, but the memory of certain things that they were about, affected the way you made a certain decision, or said a certain thing in a certain way.
The imprint was there to be interpreted in your own particular fashion, spontaneous and unanticipated, it becomes you but nevertheless was part of them. So it becomes a part of you. And so they live on.
The integrity of their life slips into the body of what you are and what you shall become. So they live as part of the equation that you send forward to others and your children.
So in a sense you take the very best from the very best of them,
when a long time down the road you say again what they would have said, remember again what they would have suggested to you, remember a song, a flavor, or a color of what was them.
There is no boat to sink here, the people left behind, live on and will in their own lives bring forward what was spectacular about you that perhaps you could not recognize. They shall endure and have children, that shall deliver to their own children a portion of what you offered, the best of the best of what was you.
The final sentence of you is not yet written and shall endure because you can never be unwritten.
You have affected more than you can know in a stream of life with so many rivers. Your children are you, and theirs will be yours, and any bridge that needs to be crossed will be safer because of you and what you brought to them.
So that is you, and you have left but are never lost to us.
The color of the world has not changed, but the shade shall now be slightly different. The crest of sunlight that sparks the cloud before the storm will have a little bit of you in it, the things that scare us in the night will be a little less scary because of you.
The urgency to live life in a fuller, more gracious manner will become us because of you.
The amazement that was you when you were born, is in us that are your children and the people that you influenced.
We are amazed.
And because of you- we are Amazing.
Your grand daughter- Maria Ann Aprile (you live on Mutti- you live on … )