Oma

If someone were to ask me the definition of tough, I would have said my Oma.

She lived through and escaped from Nazi Germany. She emigrated to Canada, not knowing a lick of English. She built a beautiful life with her family first in Edmonton, then in Vernon.

She survived COVID. I’m not talking she survived through lockdowns, I mean she contracted, grew sick and then overcame COVID. At the ripe age of 98. 

I was beginning to believe her heart didn’t have the ability to stop beating. Maybe that’s where she got her stubbornness from. Her heart.

My Oma passed away Friday. She had been diagnosed with a blood clot in her leg. She fell asleep and never woke up.

Now that she is gone, I am struck with the sheer amount of knowledge that is gone with her. I’ve heard small pieces about her life in Germany. Small details that put me in awe of what she endured and overcame. 

I had planned on visiting my Oma Friday morning with my mom. They were allowing visitors because of her prognosis- there was not much they could do for the blood clot given her age and condition. I had planned on seeing her again, finally, for the first time since before the lockdowns, since before COVID was a term I had heard.

I had decided to postpone the visit. I did not want to travel in the icy cold with my kids. 

Turns out it was a decently warm day. 

I missed my opportunity because I took for granted that I would have another one. I missed my opportunity to learn about my families past because I always thought next time would be a better time to ask.

Then I couldn’t. She was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s. The past was lost.

Then I didn’t. I thought she would still be around when the weather cleared. Now she’s gone.

Seize every opportunity. Take nothing for granted.