For whatever reason, there’s only a single picture of Oma Ida and me, a keepsake I’ve always cherished throughout my life. She’s the only grandparent I’ve met in person; all others had long passed on when I was born. My life with her began on a hot summer day when my mother labored to bring … Continue reading Molded after Oma Ida.
Tag: Grief
Fresh tears over a story from the past.
When I started this blog a couple of years ago, one of my early posts is called A WOMAN FROM THE EAST. It’s Klara’s story, but also mine. 1945, fleeing the Russian attacks of their hometown near Breslau in the historic region of Silesia, a trek of refugees from the East swept into our village. … Continue reading Fresh tears over a story from the past.
Mother. Mom. Mami.
A TRIBUTE What's in a name? Mother. So rich, so much meaning. So filled with love and compassion. So warm, so embracing, so still. Mom. Mom, carrying me in her womb. Mom, hugging me as a little child. Mom, making Arme Ritter for breakfast or lunch. Mom, faithful and protective when facing my teenage pregnancy. … Continue reading Mother. Mom. Mami.
And then, the earth shook.
Tragedy of an earthquake. Surviving the loss of those we love.