Oma

The other night I had one of those dreams that is like stepping into an alternate reality that is just as real as this one. Animals don't talk, rooms don't morph into other rooms, and houses don't usually have secret passage ways. This real-dream world is like you got to rewind or fast forward in your actual life.

Oma was sitting on her chair, and she looked exactly the way I remember her from when I was a teenager. Her mannerisms, voice, eyebrows - all were precisely OMA, and we were talking. She told me she was so happy to meet Jake (unfortunately, they never met) and was happy I was happy and prayed and gave us her blessing in the most Oma-ish way.

It was incredible. It was like a stolen conversation - one I didn't get to have when she was alive, but still.

I think this happened, nearly 2 years after her death, because I recently brought her drawing into the bedroom. We have packed away all our art where it won't get damaged, but I couldn't bear not seeing this for the many months it will be before we are ready to hang art again. I propped it up on the dresser where it is the first thing I see in the morning and the last thing I see at night. Every time I look at it I see, hear and feel Oma. What a gift.

Props to my mom who passed the drawing on to me for my 30th birthday, knowing I loved it so.

Comments

  1. AnonymousFebruary 23, 2012 at 9:24 AM

    I have had dreams like this about my Gandma and they give you such peace, don't they? Even a night time visit from a recently departed pet is a great comfort. Jainin

    ReplyDelete

Post a Comment

Popular posts from this blog

Bill 64: The Public School Modernization Act is Racist

Image
 * This is a slightly edited version of the original post, which didn't have complete math in the stats section. In my original research, I changed the term 'visible minority' to 'BIPOC' because I wanted to use the most current language, but without realizing that Stats Canada collects separate stats for people who identify as Indigenous. The stats portion now reflects these new numbers, but the overall message is the same.'            One of the books I ordered after George Floyd was killed is called ‘Anti-Racist Baby’, by Ibram X. Kendi. It is a list of actions parents can take to teach their kids to be anti-racist. The third point in the book is ‘Point at policies as the problem, not people’. So, here we go. Let’s point at a proposed policy.        It’s easy to get lost in all the problematic aspects of Bill 64, especially as a teacher. It becomes a ‘can’t see the forest for the trees’ situation. We need to step back and look at the forest.       I’m very c
Read more

A Sibling for Rudi?

Image
There's no delicate way to start this, so I'm just going to jump right in. We are looking for someone who is interested in being a gestational carrier to help us add one more baby to complete our family. Yes, that's right - I'm writing a blog post and putting it out into the world in the hopes that someone will email me or message me saying they would be excited and happy to get pregnant with our baby. Long shot? Absolutely. But this is the thing about infertility: Long shots are all we have. Watching Rudi grow and learn and develop has been the greatest joy of our lives these past 9 months. There are no words to describe just how fun it is when he tries something new or smiles and leans in for a hug. Parenthood so far hasn't been without its challenges, but for the most part it's been a gratifying and joyful experience. For me in particular, it has filled an aching hole and made me feel wholly myself again. I unabashedly love it. Before we knew tha
Read more
I don't really know how to write about this, but it has become more clear to me that I have to. Keeping it inside is causing all kinds of angst in my soul that has come to a bit of a head this holiday; a time when emotions tend to run high and coping skills are maxed out anyway. It's hard to write about and talk about for a several reasons: 1. It's personal. So deeply deeply personal. But at some point, the personal private nature of it becomes a burden that only adds to the stress of the situation. 2. No one wants to hear about my sex life (nor do I really want to write about it), no matter how inadvertently. Especially considering a lot of my family members read this little blog (although I have not decided if I will post the link to fb - if I don't, traffic will be quite limited). 3. The last thing anyone wants is to be the object of pity. I also am not a huge fan of sympathy (bizarre, I know): it makes me cry, and I don't want to cry. I don't like being
Read more