OMA
I didn't have a clue about her past. I never knew her when she was running for her life. When I met Oma, those memories were in her distant past. But I know those memories shaped who she was when she knocked at my at my door one day, introducing herself to me, just after she found out that her daughter was going to marry my father-in-law.
Oma was just a youngster in the years of World War II, and had lived through some very difficult times, and she didn't take 'the good life' in Canada for granted. She embraced the moments, and those she loved - with an open heart and open arms. She willingly shared what she had with those around her, because she knew what it meant to live in uncertainty and to rely on the kindness of strangers.
When Oma came over, she usually arrived bearing gifts - clothes and shoes for my children, stuffies, and offers of blankets or anything else that we needed. In time, I learned that was her way. Oma offered her love in large bags. Over the years, we were the recipients of bags filled with clothes and goodies from the thrift store which she found for us. And each time, there was more than enough to share with neighbours and friends who might also need some clothes or stuffies for their kids. Our neighbourhood community used to refer to those bags as "Oma Drops" it was like a mini-Christmas for us all - her language of love reached out far beyond the borders of her family.
She gave love wholeheartedly to each one of us without reserve, or favoritism. We were actually non-relatives - a young family 'grafted' into her family tree - and yet she sought us out, and loved us because of her daughter. She remembered birthdays and Christmas for each of us "kids"and "grandkids" - and each time she gave gifts, she gave hugs, along with an "I love you very much". The pure and simple joy of having her extended family around her was evident on her face every time there was a gathering of the clan. She often commented on how amazed she was that 'these are all mine'--- and she included us in that statement.
If we ever needed something, we just called her up and said "Oma, we are looking for...." and she would put it on her list. It was never long, before she would call to let us know that she had one (or 10) of whatever it was we had asked for ready to be picked up.
One year, my youngest son wanted a Santa suit. He was only 5 or 6 at the time, but it was all he could talk about. I had no idea how to make one. But I felt sure Oma might be able to help us out. So I had him call her and ask for her help. She accepted the challenge graciously and with good humour. I bought the felt and the fur and she added it to a smallish red jacket she had found at the thrift store that she worked at. She sewed the red pants to match, scrounged up a Santa hat at 'her' store, washed it all up and brought it over for him. He wore it all season.
My Little Santa. I could hardly take it off him to launder it. I am sure that he wore it out before he outgrew it - just like the cowboy boots that she had found for him a year or so before that. Oma chuckled with pleasure over his love for her gifts.
Another gift Oma gave us was blankets for the beds. Her blankets were always soft and became the favourites of my kids. She would sew sheets together stuffed with fibrefill or other old comforters. I had to keep trimming them down because they were so well-loved that the ends frayed. Even just a year ago, I trimmed down one of the blankets the kids just couldn't say goodbye to because it was so soft. Even though their now-grown- up toes poked out underneath the very shortened ends, they kept it on their bed.
Because of all that Oma had gone through in her youth, with near starvation, she was incredibly thrifty with food. One day, she came over to help me put corn into the freezer. I was the recipient of her irritation for not taking the cobs right down to the nubs - she kept commenting on how it was a waste of food not to include the part of the cob that held the kernels. I knew my husband would never eat the corn if he thought that was part of the meal, but I tried to pretend that I would definitely trim those corn cobs to within an inch of their lives, just to keep Oma happy.
Oma was famous for never throwing out food - even past the expiration date. And if cereal boxes had a little bit left in them, she made "Oma Cereal" by adding the bits from every box in her cupboard so you could have a bowl of
FrostedFlakesShreddiesCornPopsPuffedWheatFruit Loops
The same thing happened with tea.
MintEarlGreyTetleyLicoriceOolongChamomile Tea...you never really knew what you were drinking.
It was best not to ask.
One of Oma's love languages was showing up. Oma made it a priority to come to the major events of our lives- school plays, band performances, speeches, recitals, birthdays, baptisms, graduations, weddings. She wanted to be there for it all. If the kids had a program at school or church, and she knew about it, she would come, and bring Opa too. It wasn't long after my father-in-law and her daughter married, that we began to invite Opa and Oma to the Gramma/Grampa parties for the kids. Soon it just became standard that we had four sets of grandparents coming to birthday parties - and only one set was actually related. [My daughter's Grade 6 speech was "My Weird Family" - and one of the elements was about the non-related grandparents who were a part of her life.]
One of my favourite pictures is of the Mother's Day Tea that I threw for the four women from this set of 'grandparents'. I made each of them a gel candle in a teacup - the teacups were in my Mom's everyday dish pattern. I don't think Oma ever burned the candle in that tea cup. She was a sentimental person and probably saved it instead. I just hope she never served her MintEarlGreyTetleyLicoriceOolongChamomile Tea to anyone in it.
Last week, Oma was invited to God's heavenly tea party. As she entered the gates of heaven, I am sure that the other grammas who preceded her, were standing in a circle, enjoying each other's company. When she approached them, I bet they looked at each other and in unison said "Oma! Welcome! We've been expecting you!"
I will forever be grateful for Oma's example of generosity to family and friends. She taught me a lot about not letting a strange situation ( in her case, her daughter marrying a man who was 22 years older than she - with grown up children and grandchildren) block a spirit of love and acceptance. She taught me that we all have choices - that even when our situation is not what we expected or wanted, that we can take the lessons we have learned in our past, and choose gratitude rather than bitterness. She taught me that we can reach out to others who may need our love in many practical and whole-hearted ways.
Farewell, Oma. For now.
Oma was just a youngster in the years of World War II, and had lived through some very difficult times, and she didn't take 'the good life' in Canada for granted. She embraced the moments, and those she loved - with an open heart and open arms. She willingly shared what she had with those around her, because she knew what it meant to live in uncertainty and to rely on the kindness of strangers.
When Oma came over, she usually arrived bearing gifts - clothes and shoes for my children, stuffies, and offers of blankets or anything else that we needed. In time, I learned that was her way. Oma offered her love in large bags. Over the years, we were the recipients of bags filled with clothes and goodies from the thrift store which she found for us. And each time, there was more than enough to share with neighbours and friends who might also need some clothes or stuffies for their kids. Our neighbourhood community used to refer to those bags as "Oma Drops" it was like a mini-Christmas for us all - her language of love reached out far beyond the borders of her family.
She gave love wholeheartedly to each one of us without reserve, or favoritism. We were actually non-relatives - a young family 'grafted' into her family tree - and yet she sought us out, and loved us because of her daughter. She remembered birthdays and Christmas for each of us "kids"and "grandkids" - and each time she gave gifts, she gave hugs, along with an "I love you very much". The pure and simple joy of having her extended family around her was evident on her face every time there was a gathering of the clan. She often commented on how amazed she was that 'these are all mine'--- and she included us in that statement.
If we ever needed something, we just called her up and said "Oma, we are looking for...." and she would put it on her list. It was never long, before she would call to let us know that she had one (or 10) of whatever it was we had asked for ready to be picked up.
One year, my youngest son wanted a Santa suit. He was only 5 or 6 at the time, but it was all he could talk about. I had no idea how to make one. But I felt sure Oma might be able to help us out. So I had him call her and ask for her help. She accepted the challenge graciously and with good humour. I bought the felt and the fur and she added it to a smallish red jacket she had found at the thrift store that she worked at. She sewed the red pants to match, scrounged up a Santa hat at 'her' store, washed it all up and brought it over for him. He wore it all season.
Another gift Oma gave us was blankets for the beds. Her blankets were always soft and became the favourites of my kids. She would sew sheets together stuffed with fibrefill or other old comforters. I had to keep trimming them down because they were so well-loved that the ends frayed. Even just a year ago, I trimmed down one of the blankets the kids just couldn't say goodbye to because it was so soft. Even though their now-grown- up toes poked out underneath the very shortened ends, they kept it on their bed.
Because of all that Oma had gone through in her youth, with near starvation, she was incredibly thrifty with food. One day, she came over to help me put corn into the freezer. I was the recipient of her irritation for not taking the cobs right down to the nubs - she kept commenting on how it was a waste of food not to include the part of the cob that held the kernels. I knew my husband would never eat the corn if he thought that was part of the meal, but I tried to pretend that I would definitely trim those corn cobs to within an inch of their lives, just to keep Oma happy.
Oma was famous for never throwing out food - even past the expiration date. And if cereal boxes had a little bit left in them, she made "Oma Cereal" by adding the bits from every box in her cupboard so you could have a bowl of
FrostedFlakesShreddiesCornPopsPuffedWheatFruit Loops
The same thing happened with tea.
MintEarlGreyTetleyLicoriceOolongChamomile Tea...you never really knew what you were drinking.
It was best not to ask.
One of Oma's love languages was showing up. Oma made it a priority to come to the major events of our lives- school plays, band performances, speeches, recitals, birthdays, baptisms, graduations, weddings. She wanted to be there for it all. If the kids had a program at school or church, and she knew about it, she would come, and bring Opa too. It wasn't long after my father-in-law and her daughter married, that we began to invite Opa and Oma to the Gramma/Grampa parties for the kids. Soon it just became standard that we had four sets of grandparents coming to birthday parties - and only one set was actually related. [My daughter's Grade 6 speech was "My Weird Family" - and one of the elements was about the non-related grandparents who were a part of her life.]
One of my favourite pictures is of the Mother's Day Tea that I threw for the four women from this set of 'grandparents'. I made each of them a gel candle in a teacup - the teacups were in my Mom's everyday dish pattern. I don't think Oma ever burned the candle in that tea cup. She was a sentimental person and probably saved it instead. I just hope she never served her MintEarlGreyTetleyLicoriceOolongChamomile Tea to anyone in it.
Last week, Oma was invited to God's heavenly tea party. As she entered the gates of heaven, I am sure that the other grammas who preceded her, were standing in a circle, enjoying each other's company. When she approached them, I bet they looked at each other and in unison said "Oma! Welcome! We've been expecting you!"I will forever be grateful for Oma's example of generosity to family and friends. She taught me a lot about not letting a strange situation ( in her case, her daughter marrying a man who was 22 years older than she - with grown up children and grandchildren) block a spirit of love and acceptance. She taught me that we all have choices - that even when our situation is not what we expected or wanted, that we can take the lessons we have learned in our past, and choose gratitude rather than bitterness. She taught me that we can reach out to others who may need our love in many practical and whole-hearted ways.
Farewell, Oma. For now.
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JC