Oma, my maternal grandmother, and I were close. When I was little, her neighbors were German and I must have heard their grandkids call one of them Oma, German for grandmother. What a lovely sound, ‘Oma.’
As I grew up, Oma and I would turn getting ready for bed into a competition. One of us would sneak off and change into pajamas first. She’d come out at 2PM in a floral fleece robe that I now use. I’d pretend to fuss at her for getting away with changing into cozy clothes before me.
She survived two husbands and had two remarkable children. A military wife, she learned to travel light and relatively often. An artist in the garden as well as with thin strips of wool, she had an innate sense of color and shading.
She channeled that love into her rug hooking color work, which often featured striking flowers. During our visits, we’d always get the rug update: which were finished, which she was ripping, which design she planned to order next. Would there be enough bright yellow wool to finish all of the highlights? Would she have to try and dye more a similar color?
…to be continued, next week.
I’ve been listening to Dolly’s cover of this Brandi Carlile song and thinking of Oma’s beautiful face:
Until next time.
Love.
Cassie
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Wow. I didn't even know about rug hooking. I think I would like that!
What an art form! Those rugs are amazing. You’ve got me thinking of her beautiful face, too.