A Life of Family, Love and Traditions

A phone call at 6am is never a good sign.  It generally means that something has happened and it couldn't wait until a more "decent" hour.  On Wednesday night I set my alarm for 6am and went to bed only to ignore my alarm at 6 and not get up until 6:15, hop in the shower and start to get dressed around 6:30.

I checked my phone at 6:36am and saw I had a missed call and a voicemail from my mom.  A few minutes later I learned that my Omi had died.  Suddenly. Unexpectedly.

As I rocked and cried with grief, I realized that this was supposed to be the weekend I visited her.  Three weeks ago my dad and I agreed that we had time enough to put off this trip for another few months so I could have more vacation time.  At the time I felt remorseful that I wasn't there to comfort my dad.  I could have been there. I am so sorry. I should have been there. Now I realize how important it was for the sisters to all be together with my mom and grandma and hear stories from them on her life and how she impacted them. To learn how she loved and lived.

I will be flying to Germany next week to celebrate her life and to honor her memory.  We will be meeting in Hamburg, traveling to Kiel and Lensahn to the family grave site.  It will be memorable and special.  It will be difficult and painful. And yet, in the pain and grief there is One who holds my hand; who holds my heart; who holds my hurt.  By His grace I am comforted.  By His understanding I understand. By His strength I am strengthened.