Oma

My 82-year-old mother, my kids call her Oma, was actually the reason why I finally decided to take the plunge into the blogosphere. She has been ill since April 22. After five visits to the emergency room, numerous doctors’ visits, and many lab tests later, we still do not have a diagnosis. Tomorrow she will get a cat scan of her head.

At first I wanted to launch a blog in order ask medical advice, but I decided it was better to celebrate her amazing life. There is a lot to tell, so I will share just little tidbits at a time.

Here is a recent picture of her in front of the cottage behind her apartment building in the Cole Valley neighborhood of San Francisco, near tangobaby. When she first bought the building she lived in the cottage, but she was miserable there. She moved to the front apartment where she could see the N Judah stop right in front of her window. “I like to see ze people valking by, hear ze lovers’ quarrels, and see how ze young people dress.” In case you haven’t noticed, she speaks with a German accent. Her father was Dutch and her mother German.






The cottage recently became vacant, and because she was ill, my sister, her husband, and I helped her get it ready for the next tenant, thus I happen to have some photos. This is the cottage.

And this is the view from the living room window.

The garden is my mother’s. She dotes over this tiny plot of land, but it is just the right size for her. I love how unstructured and bountiful her garden is. The cinerarias bloom stronger every year, with no telling where they will pop up. The tallest tree you see on the right is a variegated holly tree she grew from a tiny drugstore four-inch pot. Can I tell you how many times I’ve tried and failed to grow a holly from a drugstore four-inch pot? I console myself by saying it must be the San Francisco fog.

Here’s the kitchen with her famed cineraria.

She bought the apartment building before Cole Valley became the tony part of town. Her instincts told her that this part of town would flourish and, as usual, her instincts were right. Long ago, she had a vision to buy an apartment building in order to support her in her later years. She doggedly stuck to her goal and achieved it, one baby step at a time.

Not bad for someone with an eight-grade education.