In honor of our beautiful Oma, I searched high and low for a poem to share today. I started with the obvious grief and funeral poems but they did not ring true for me about Oma. She was a fierce, feisty, fun and complicated lady. She was highly artistic, resourceful and opinionated.
As I read poem after poem, I was guided by two things: gratitude for knowing her and respect for her strength throughout her entire life.
The courage that my mother had
Went with her, and is with her still:
Rock from New England quarried;
Now granite in a granite hill.
The golden brooch my mother wore
She left behind for me to wear;
I have no thing I treasure more:
Yet, it is something I could spare.
Oh, if instead she'd left to me
The thing she took into the grave! —
That courage like a rock, which she
Has no more need of, and I have.
I know you absolutely hated it when I aimed my camera your way, but it was so worth it! Every single image that I have of you now was worth your anger in the moment. You were beautiful and I wish I had more years to absorb your wisdom and creativity in life.