Woke up: Ripper’s Cove, Santa Catalina Island, California
Went to sleep: Ripper’s Cove, Santa Catalina Island, California
Today I was reminded of my paternal grandmother, Oma. As most people know, Oma and I were very close. We took care of each other from the time I was born until the day she died.
Oma was from Austria. She came to America at 21 and as a young woman she worked as a seamstress and a cook. She and my grandpa, Gus, were married 58 years when he passed away.
On Sundays, Oma and grandpa would remain in their dress clothes even after they returned from mass. No work would be done around the house or in the yard on Sunday. Oma would put on an apron to protect her clothing while she prepared the noon meal, usually a pork rump roast with onion, potatoe and sauerkraut.
Sometime in the afternoon, another couple might come for a visit. These would be their German friends or their Austrian friends; friends from the German Lodge or the church. Always they would arrive with a loaf of home-baked bread or a bottle of wine. They were greeted with a two-handed handshake and air kisses on both cheeks. In the summertime, the friends would sit in the back yard under the grape arbor speaking in German; animated with lots of laughter. Grandpa would pour the gentleman a little whiskey with a single ice-cube while Oma served coffee to the woman and cut into a freshly baked pound cake.
On Sunday we took the dinghy to Two Harbors, the nearby town. We used the public showers, made phone calls to family and accessed the internet while at the outdoor café. Without prior planning, an impromptu gathering of other cruising couples evolved. Mark and Deanna, our Canadian friends aboard Speakeasy, arrived from Catalina Cove. Dana and Keith, from Oakland, joined us.
With nothing else to do but while away a sunny, end-of-summer, Sunday afternoon, we shared stories of our homes, our families, our relationships. The afternoon cost nothing. It took no effort. Yet, we walked away enriched.