Remembering Omi

Omi, the mother of my father, died today. She was born in April 1942 and lived to the age of 74 years. She was the fun grandma that everyone in the family loved.

On our family holidays, she always wanted to join the activities with the grandchildren. She rode rollercoasters with us and screamed with excitement on the big drops. She played laser games and ran around trying to tag everyone. She joined in water fights, card games, and long walks on the beach. Whatever we did, she was ready and eager to take part.

Her energy never seemed to fade, even as she grew older. She told funny stories from her youth and made us all laugh. She baked treats for us and shared them with a big smile. Her pears stewed in red wine were famous among the family. We all looked forward to tasting them at gatherings.

She held an unquestionable belief in God and Jesus as her saviour until the very end. Her faith gave her strength and peace throughout her life.

Family gatherings felt brighter because of her spirit and kindness.

I will miss her dearly and think of her often.

Rest in peace.