My wonderful Oma passed early this morning in Vienna. She was 90 years old and around 9 am she stopped breathing. The funeral was done soon after in order to have it done before shabbos, so many family members were not able to make it.
I have posted about her a few months ago. And just a few weeks ago, on my visit to Vienna I got to see her for the last time. I don't know if she knew I was there but I spend some time just sitting with her on a few different occasions so that her care taker could have a break. The last time I went, when I said good-bye, she opened her eyes for the first time. She looked at me although I do not know if she really saw me.
I have been thinking a lot about mourning not the grandmother of the past few years who was merely a shell of the vibrant, loving person I knew. Rather I am mourning the Oma of my childhood, the Oma who was a constant presence when I was growing up.
So, this weekend, I am planning on sharing lots of memories with my husband and children. I want them to get to know her and I want to remind myself of all the wonderful times we shared. I hope it will bring me comfort and meaning. Yehi zichra baruch.