Her sister and nephew died in the bombing, but rescuers
found her alive and saved her. Years later she met my Opa and they were
married. In 1957 they moved to the United States
like so many couples before them, hoping to start a family and give their
children a better life than they had left behind in Germany .
Omi was a survivor and also a caretaker her entire life. She
very much reminded me of Snow White when I was a child because she was always
rescuing and nursing a stray or sick animal and also always humming a song to
herself. It seemed as if birds and rabbits and cats and dogs flocked to her. She
was always patient and always kind with animals. I think she found solace in
their company.
I have fond memories of her tucking me into bed, driving me
to dance practice and dropping by our house just to stock our freezer with ice
cream. She was so imaginative and so supportive. I think she believed, like I did,
that I would grow up to realize my childhood dream of being a ballerina if I
wanted to.
I didn’t quite grow up to be a ballerina. I ended up a
runner, which in many ways is better I think because it often reminds me of
her. Running, and training for a marathon especially, takes patience, courage
and perseverance – all qualities that Omi possessed.
She started her own interior design business in the 1980s that
she ran with a friend up until she was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease about
seven years ago. My sister and I didn’t know she was sick. She had sworn my Dad
to secrecy. But eventually the woman I remembered so fondly, the independent,
sweet Omi I loved, started to fade away.
When my sister and I would return from college we suddenly
saw the change in her. We were moving on and growing up, but she was faltering.
She was confused, delusional, sad and sometimes angry. In every way imaginable
she was the opposite of herself.
I miss her. But when
I run I sometimes feel like I’m with her. She loved the outdoors and felt most
at ease when she was out taking walks and wandering in the woods. Living in the
city it’s hard for me to get out onto trails, but I still feel the most at
peace when I’m outside running even if it’s among skyscrapers instead of trees.
She died this February, and it was something I had prepared
for in my mind but not in my heart. When I discovered the Run 2 Remember team I
was overcome with a mix of emotions. I was happy to find a way to support a cause
that’s so dear to my heart in a way that I’m passionate about, but I was also sad
that I have a real reason to run for it. I look forward to the day when no one
has to experience what I had to experience with Omi, or what my Dad, as her
caretaker, went through. I can’t wait to run in celebration because we’ve found
a cure. Until that day I’ll keep running because it’s one of my passions, and
I’ll finish this marathon for Omi and for me. I know that had she been here in
body and mind that she would be proud. I’ll have to settle for having her in
spirit and for having the privilege of running with so many people like me who
have lost or are losing their loved ones to this disease.
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