Final Gathering. Then and again, you would discover an old yellowed photograph with familiar faces. It may puzzle you, how much children look like their parents, come time and age. As early as a baby is born, everybody tries to find a commonality, like a nose from the great-grandaunt, a chin from the sibling, the eyes from a parent, or the thinker's brow of grandpa. Over time, characteristics in behavior as well as in look develop further, and then a face may show deep furrows, signs of despair, or laugh lines, signs of a sunny personality. "Then something happened again," as Wolf Haas would start his novels. Sad news arrived, when I returned from a business trip to Germany: The last grand-aunt had passed away, just like her brother and two of her sisters in the three previous years. "As if they had agreed upon it," someone said at the funeral. A whole generation had vanished, although we know that it lives on in us and our own children. As Christians we hope for them to be reunited in afterlife without any more quarrel, just as they quietly assemble around their parents in the photograph from a time around World War II, which I tried to fix by removing the crack that had covered half of my grandfather's face. While modern technology may help us to pep up an old picture and make it look fresh and almost as new, it cannot help us with one thing: Bringing those back we have loved and lost.