Our beautiful, wonderful, so powerful of a woman. Our Marianne. It was incredible, her knowledge of cultures, her creativity to make so many beautiful things, and her love for life. Her little room was filled with artifacts collected over the years. One corner with a shelf, carrying many a years worth of journals. Every night she wrote in those little identical edged journals. Her journey in the world.
She was my Omi.
My earliest memories included excitement upon hearing of her approaching visits! We counted down the days, and knew she would be bringing so many presents and activities! Oh how she loved playing with us! Board games, cards, memory games, and the most fun of all, pretend. Oh how shy we were memorizing our little roles in the sketches she put together for us. Our audience always being our loving parents! We were still shy, but oh so proud!
I remember her workplace in Berlin. A community center, where teens would spend their after school. Many activities were available for them, including sewing. That took place in a big room with a couple of sewing machines and lots of fabric all around. I remember it was a little cluttered, but I was mesmerized by the little theater, and the handmade puppets. It was here where I first actually used a sewing machine. I don't recall what my project was, but i remember my Omi telling me to slow down on the foot pedal. :-)
Every time I visited her in her little home in Berlin, we would do a new craft. Silk painting was a favorite. Seeing the colors magically spread to where you want them... And if you didn't seal the area well, see them spreading where you didn't want them! Watching salt catch the colors and create little random designs.
It was in her little, cozy and wonderful, home where we learned to be creative. To let our minds wander, to let our spirits grow. Where we started, and actually finished, new projects. She sent me home one year with her mother's sewing machine. A dear little Singer, that came in its own carrier. Yellow with lovely swirly pattern on it. It is long gone now, but not before creating many skirts, and shirts, and some unfinished projects.
Oh how I miss my Omi. Her big hugs. Her unwavering encouragement. And her healthy appetite. Meals were created with love in that house! And you could feel it. You fed all your senses, not just your belly. And dessert was just as important as the meal.
I know she would have been so proud of me and my siblings if she could see us now. All on their own path, making our own lives. I know we are all where we are today because of her. She put us all on a path of pursuing our passion, igniting our creativity, and making the best of our days.
Omi. If only you could see me, and my own two children now!
