Wednesday, April 3, 2013

"Don't let the fear of striking out keep you from playing the game"


Having an amazing day today, and I will write later, but for now here is a little reflection from last night. 

Forewarning:  there’s really no great adventure here… just me reflecting on my life, so if you’re not that interested in the way my mind goes crazy sometimes, please skip this post.


So tonight, for some reason I really couldn’t fall asleep.  I am by no means nervous about tomorrow, but there was something clearly keeping me awake. 

I have been putting off listening to an interview that my grandmother did in the 90’s, because I’ve been scared that it would really get me down.  Tonight, for some reason, I felt like I needed to listen  to her voice tell the story that I’m trying to write.   The interview only lasts 59 minutes and it also includes 3 other people.  I didn’t hear anything I didn’t already know, but I loved getting to hear her tell me the stories again.  It got me all fired up, so I worked a little on my very rough chapter 1.  After about an hour (around 1 am) I called it quits. But my mind just wouldn’t give it up…

Earlier today, I sat outside on campus in the freezing cold.  Since I haven’t gotten a cell phone, the only way to contact Oma’s friend Hannele is through a call using Skype.  For Skype I need internet, and since I still don’t have internet at home (and the connection at Starbucks wasn’t strong enough) I had to stand outside…. The call was short, but we set up a time to meet this Friday.  Maybe that’s what was keeping me up…. I started writing down questions that I want to ask her, and I quickly realized that the are a million questions I want answers to.  I gave up on that and started thinking about exactly how I should introduce myself to this person.  This lady that I know so much about… this person who was the main character to many stories that I heard as a child.   How should I word what my Oma meant to me. Well… while I was growing up, she was like my second mom.  I stayed with her when I was sick and my parents were working… on weekends instead of wanting to go stay with friends, I use to only want to go spend the night with her.  I looked forward to quiet breakfasts with her, when we would listen to classical music and eat rice cakes with cream cheese and plumb jelly… How could I truly describe what she meant to me.

That led me down a path of reflection.  I have thought many times while in Germany about the idea of “repressing feelings” in order to not only live (in the case of my grandmother), but also in order to have a greater chance to thrive.  I was 11 when my family moved to the United States, and I will never forget the last day I spent with my family.  At that point in my life, my family, my cousins, my aunts and uncles, my grandparents, and my Oma meant the world to me.   Saying goodbye was unimaginable and I really could comprehend why my parents had made the  choice to leave.   My memories of my first year in the U.S. involve a lot of tearful conversations through MSN Messenger and a lot of crying all together.  As months went by … the vast majority of the “chats” or “calls” were between us and Oma.  It was sooo hard for me to accept the fact that this move, which started out as a temporary thing (only for a year), did not look temporary at all.  I couldn’t come to terms with my parent’s decision, so I slowly started to ignore it.

As I became more involved in school, choir, and volunteering it became easier and easier to avoid these tearful conversations by avoiding the conversations all together.  This was especially the case with Oma… Every time I spoke with her it was as if the pain would come tumbling back into my life. So the conversations decreased, and when she visited during our second year in the U.S, I remember how distant I was.  At the time I didn’t realize what I was doing, but now I don’t doubt it at all… While trying to avoid reconnecting and feeling the bond that I always had with Oma, I made a horrible mistake… I avoided her, I felt like she was intruding into this life that I had created… A life that in my mind was free from this feeling of constantly missing my other life… I knew she felt the disconnect, but I guess I was too young to do anything about it.  I remember her buying me canvas and paints, and asking me to paint with her….  she had taught me to paint in Uruguay…  Years later, when we went back for what turned out to be our last visit with Oma, I continued to isolate myself from her. At this point, I don’t know whether it was fear of leaving her again or fear of connecting again and losing her forever.  Either way, I made her the last priority in our busy 2 week schedule…. She did everything for me and she also did everything to include my best friend Amy who had come along with us….  Still I stayed oh so distant.

Almost two years ago I sat with Oma’s friend, my Omi Hanne, and she reminded me of the effects of my actions…. I don’t know how we got to the topic, but she mentioned how disappointed Oma was after visiting us… She mentioned that she felt as if something had changed.  It hurt me so to hear that, but I had known it all along.  Tonight, however, after listening to my Oma’s voice and remembering a time when I laid next to her in her bed and listened to the same stories…  I think I finally understand why I did the things I did.

I don’t consider myself a philosopher, psychologist, or smart for that matter, but I think I might have figured my own mind out, and now I wish I had done so sooner. I talked about distancing myself from things earlier this month, talking about the true horrifying history that my grandmother lived through… but this idea of distance is exactly what I am reminded of tonight.  This tendency I have of distancing myself from situations in order to avoid getting hurt only led me to a distance that I will regret forever.  I never wanted Oma to feel like our bond had changed, because in my mind it never did. I know now through the letters and notes that she left me that she didn’t really think that, but I wish I hadn’t caused her these moments of doubt.

I don’t know if anyone is still reading or can follow my train of thought, but I am writing this down so perhaps I will follow my own advice, because avoiding feeling isn’t really going to help avoid the pain.  Now this makes me sound like I think I have the toughest life in the world, which I don’t.  I am so grateful for the life that I have and I am incredibly thankful for my parents that made the sacrifice and put up with all of our tears in order to give us the opportunities we’ve had.  I am the luckiest girl in the world, because I have two incredible places that I get to call home.  I have two amazing set of friends/family, and time has taught me how to bring these two worlds together. 

As I laid here tonight trying to put into words the love that I have for my Oma so that I can explain it to her childhood friend, who she saw for the last time when she was 13, I am once again at awe by the example that Oma left.  Our reasons for immigrating could not have been more different, but we both were left with long distance friendships and relationships to maintain.  She had so many painful memories that she could have used as excuses to suppress her feelings, but instead, she continued to maintain strong connections to those that mattered most to her from the beginning.   I only wished I had noticed her bravery earlier and followed her example, but I guess it is never too late!  

I guess I should probably still try to figure out what to tell Hannele, I’m sure she doesn’t want to hear this rambling on… especially in broken German!!!!

In conclusion, I probably shouldn’t have had that green tea with caffeine today and it was probably not a good idea to listen to that interview this late.  But it is officially 2:33 am in Potsdam and I am going to bed happy to be my Oma’s granddaughter and happy to get to share her story with the world!   

But really, I’m gonna stop talking/writing now and try to get some sleep before I wake up at 7!!!  

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