March 9 marks an unforgettable day for me. My family lost an incredible woman that day. She was strong, adventurous, and very thoughtful. It's been almost 2 years now that my grandma, my oma, passed away, but the wound is still ever so fresh for a lot of us. She came to Canada, from Holland, 2 years ago, and had a stroke a few days later. She died in Canada. Now, the thing is, it's like she knew. She had her personally written will (not the official lawyer one) with her when she came. Oma had an extremely hard marriage and had 2 sons (my dad and uncle). She just had to come to Canada to talk to my dad about something. This was like a huge deal. And she did. And she died a day later. Ian and I drove down in a huge snowstorm to see her in the hospital before she died. We had the kids with us and went to sleep at my parent's house that night. (They stayed with oma overnight.) I awoke at 4:26 exactly because I thought I heard a sound in the hall. I got up to look. Then I figured since I was up I'd give the hospital a call. My mom came on the phone right away and said oma had just died, at 4:26.
She was my guardian angel. I was always with her, growing up. I was the first grandchild and she lived right next door. She was the true definition of a grandma.
I remember her when I play "On Jordan's Stormy Banks" by Jars of Clay. Love ya, Omie!
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