Friday, April 2, 2010

Oma


This is a picture of my Oma (Dad's Mom) with me as a baby.

Today as I was sitting in the doctor's office I thought of her. Of how much I miss her. I don't do that often... think of the dead, or miss them. I think I get too busy with everyday life - dishes, laundry, trying to make sure that Maria gets good stimulation, making sure there is quality time with husband, cleaning the bathroom, making dinner - but today I did... no other thoughts were running through my head. I was thinking of my baby, heaven, and my Oma.

She died in September 1998
I was 16 years old.

She tried to teach me how to quilt. She really wanted to do that with me, but I didn't want to. She asked me repeatedly, I said "no" over and over and over again, until I finally said "when pigs fly". She got the point. I hope I didn't hurt her feelings.

She wanted to get her ears pierced, and asked me to go with her... we never did it.

We had some excellent times together. My cousin Dawn (who is about the same age as me) and I would spend a week or two there at a time. We had a blast. We just never got around to the ear piercing, and I was just not ready for quilting when she was here.

Today I wished that she was still here... that we could be crafty together, that we could go to the temple, that she could tell me more about her life, especially her childhood in Indonesia, that she could play with my babies. I wish that she could have been here when I got married, and when Maria was born.

She is busy in heaven. She wouldn't have it any other way. She is one of those people who had to have 10 things going at one time in order to be satisfied. I hope that she got a chance to get to know Maria (her middle name was Maria) before she came to earth... and that she knows baby "x".

I hope she knows I miss her, and that I'm excited to quilt with her in heaven.

1 comment:

Laura said...

What a beautiful tribute, Meres. I think the dead are more able to be present in our lives than they were when they were alive... but that's my theory. It comforts me when I miss my grandpa.

I remember when your Oma died. Funny how the years pass but the longing stays. I guess that's what hearts are for, anyway: to love.

Thanks for posting this.