A Day in Reflection
Yesterday, I went with my fiance, Ryan, to get our marriage license. We were excited and giddy as we moved one step closer to our wedding, and more importantly to our marriage. Hartford City Hall is a gorgeous building of stone and marble, cool and dark inside, and ultimately beautiful. In the vital records office we each had to fill out a simple sheet with the most basic information about ourselves. There was one section that I found to be an odd request though; we each had to put where our mother and father were born. For the section inquiring about my mom I simply wrote, "New Haven, CT" which is where Ryan and I were both born too; that was easy. But next to the box asking where my dad was born I wrote one word, "Australia". I don't have a great relationship with my father, but knowing he was born on the other side of the world is something I have always found to be unique and exciting. I've always wondered, does this make me Australian? Is this part of my culture? I have grown up celebrating and honoring the fact that I am half Italian (mom's side) and half Dutch (dad's side) but there is so much more to it than just that.
As soon as I got home from City Hall, I gathered a few things together and went to visit my Oma. Oma is Dutch for grandma, and my Oma is one of my only two living grandparents. She is an incredible woman with fascinating life stories from her childhood in Holland during World War II. She tells stories that I cannot fathom- serving coffee to the soldiers that would knock on her door looking for Jewish people hiding in her house, meeting a friend for a secret date while they heard bombs falling, and learning that one had hit his house while he was with her and therefore his life was saved, and stories of the most strong and endless love that she and my Opa shared throughout their lives and even beyond his death.
As I got to her house yesterday, we were waiting for a FaceTime call from my aunt, uncle, and cousins who were on vacation in Holland. They were currently in her hometown of Venlo and wanted her to see and speak to some family members that she hasn't seen in many, many years. Oma left Holland after she met and fell in love with my Opa and has only been back a handful of times since then. She's traveled the globe, moved more times than she can count, and landed in America some 50 year ago, but will never consider herself American or her home America. Holland is her home and she is and will forever be Dutch.
We awaited our FaceTime call feeling extremely thankful for recent technology and excited for Oma to see her family. The call came and Oma immediately started speaking her Dutch dialect, delighted that she could see them so easily. It was incredible to watch, and a moment I was absolutely grateful for experiencing with her. She got to talk to many people and we both waved bye to our Dutch relatives, wishing them well and sending our love. As soon as we hung up she had tears in her eyes. Tears of gratitude, but also tears of sadness that enhanced the loneliness she feels in America.
Oma then decided to cook. She is famous for her most delicious dish, Bami, and it's not a Dutch dish. My Opa was born in Indonesia, on the island of Java. Java is mountainous and breathtaking, with lush greenery, turquoise water, and a gorgeous landscape. Opa's parents had moved there during the Dutch colonization and so he was born there, much of his culture being Indonesian and Dutch. Though my Oma met my Opa in Holland, Oma picked up on his Indonesian culture and carried her Indonesian cooking skills with her wherever they went. So yesterday she gathered up all her fresh vegetables, her spice packets, her eggs, her noodles, and I watched and wrote down the steps as she completed them, of course taking pictures along the way, too. I helped where I could, but she is very set in her ways and I would have been the most help by staying out of the kitchen. Bami is a dish that takes a lot of work and involves many steps and I could see how tired she was getting. After about an hour, we sat down to a fancy Tuesday afternoon lunch together of Bami and cucumber salad. As I was just about finishing my plate, Oma looked at me and said, "and don't forget we bought a pie!" It was truly one of the most memorable days I've ever shared with her.
After taking time to reflect, I realized my day started by recognizing that my dad was born in Australia, continued on as we FaceTimed and talked to my family in Holland, cooked up an Indonesian meal inspired by my Opa and perfected by my Oma, and spent time with my grandmother on a beautiful day in America. My family fun fact that my grandparents, dad, and uncle were born on four different continents has always been captivating to me. I am grateful that I have heard my Oma tell her stories, watched her cook her delicious recipes, and spent time with her while we have it. Yesterday was truly a day I will cherish forever.
As soon as I got home from City Hall, I gathered a few things together and went to visit my Oma. Oma is Dutch for grandma, and my Oma is one of my only two living grandparents. She is an incredible woman with fascinating life stories from her childhood in Holland during World War II. She tells stories that I cannot fathom- serving coffee to the soldiers that would knock on her door looking for Jewish people hiding in her house, meeting a friend for a secret date while they heard bombs falling, and learning that one had hit his house while he was with her and therefore his life was saved, and stories of the most strong and endless love that she and my Opa shared throughout their lives and even beyond his death.
As I got to her house yesterday, we were waiting for a FaceTime call from my aunt, uncle, and cousins who were on vacation in Holland. They were currently in her hometown of Venlo and wanted her to see and speak to some family members that she hasn't seen in many, many years. Oma left Holland after she met and fell in love with my Opa and has only been back a handful of times since then. She's traveled the globe, moved more times than she can count, and landed in America some 50 year ago, but will never consider herself American or her home America. Holland is her home and she is and will forever be Dutch.
We awaited our FaceTime call feeling extremely thankful for recent technology and excited for Oma to see her family. The call came and Oma immediately started speaking her Dutch dialect, delighted that she could see them so easily. It was incredible to watch, and a moment I was absolutely grateful for experiencing with her. She got to talk to many people and we both waved bye to our Dutch relatives, wishing them well and sending our love. As soon as we hung up she had tears in her eyes. Tears of gratitude, but also tears of sadness that enhanced the loneliness she feels in America.
Oma then decided to cook. She is famous for her most delicious dish, Bami, and it's not a Dutch dish. My Opa was born in Indonesia, on the island of Java. Java is mountainous and breathtaking, with lush greenery, turquoise water, and a gorgeous landscape. Opa's parents had moved there during the Dutch colonization and so he was born there, much of his culture being Indonesian and Dutch. Though my Oma met my Opa in Holland, Oma picked up on his Indonesian culture and carried her Indonesian cooking skills with her wherever they went. So yesterday she gathered up all her fresh vegetables, her spice packets, her eggs, her noodles, and I watched and wrote down the steps as she completed them, of course taking pictures along the way, too. I helped where I could, but she is very set in her ways and I would have been the most help by staying out of the kitchen. Bami is a dish that takes a lot of work and involves many steps and I could see how tired she was getting. After about an hour, we sat down to a fancy Tuesday afternoon lunch together of Bami and cucumber salad. As I was just about finishing my plate, Oma looked at me and said, "and don't forget we bought a pie!" It was truly one of the most memorable days I've ever shared with her.
After taking time to reflect, I realized my day started by recognizing that my dad was born in Australia, continued on as we FaceTimed and talked to my family in Holland, cooked up an Indonesian meal inspired by my Opa and perfected by my Oma, and spent time with my grandmother on a beautiful day in America. My family fun fact that my grandparents, dad, and uncle were born on four different continents has always been captivating to me. I am grateful that I have heard my Oma tell her stories, watched her cook her delicious recipes, and spent time with her while we have it. Yesterday was truly a day I will cherish forever.
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