It's been another huge gap since I've updated this, but while I could plead a lack of free time as an excuse again, this time it's a bit more emotional. On 15 April 2012, my beloved Oma passed away in her sleep at the age of ninety with my grandfather right by her side, and as she was the biggest reason for this whole project, it was too painful to go anywhere near it for quite a while. More to the point, I lost one of the most crucial influences on my life and the person I've become, the strongest woman I've ever known, and one who taught me and gave me more than it's possible to repay in a lifetime. She was never the easiest of people to deal with, but digging into the family history gave me a huge insight into why she was the way she was and I'm still filled with respect and awe that she did so much and overcame so many tragedies in those nine decades. For all her flaws, my Oma was someone I feel lucky beyond belief to have known, let alone to have as my grandmother, and when I look at what an impact she had on my life and those of everyone in our family, it amazes me that one tiny woman could change the world around us so much. She loved us enough that she wanted us to be the very best we could be and even if her methods were painful, I never doubted the motives behind them. She may not have said the words until the last six months of her life, but I always knew beyond a doubt how much she loved me. In true German fashion, she showed it every day in her actions (especially when it came to stuffing your face with her incredible cooking, because if you left her table hungry, something was horribly wrong) and in what she gave us every day. A child of the Depression and WWII, she always took pride in what she owned and made sure none of us ever had to go through the deprivations she did. I never put it to the test, but I'm sure I could have worn a different outfit every day for at least a month or two without repeats, and while there were the cringe-worthy items I'd wear once (or twice if forced) just for her, she even managed to influence my taste in fashion with her classic style. There are a hundred little things that will always make me think of her, like grilled cheese sandwiches, egg timers, and sailboats among so many others, and though it still hurts, I'm quicker to smile than cry now. While I always tried my hardest never to take Oma's presence in my life for granted, it wasn't until she passed away that I started figuring out just how many ways she's had a major impact in my life, a list that's still growing almost seven months later. Having her in my life at all was one of my greatest blessings, having her in it for all three decades is still a bit miraculous for me.
The title of this entry comes from one of my best friends, also deceased, who was trying to explain the Irish (all Celts, really, but he was from Ireland) view of death and why wakes and funerals are more like parties. It's an outlook I absolutely love because it focuses on all the good that person brought to the world instead of just the passing, and as Oma didn't want us to grieve for her, I think it's an idea she'd agree with. If for no other reason than that, I'm making the choice to celebrate her life instead of mourning her death and I think it's a choice she'd approve of.
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