VISIT WITH OMA

I have been meaning to put up this post for quite some time now. But given the terrible circumstances of Halainah's papa's passing, I just didn't have the energy to do it.

The day before papa passed, I finally took Halainah to meet her Oma. Halainah has been home for a year now and I have never taken her to the cemetery to meet my mom. It is just something that I wasn't emotionally prepared to do.

My mother and I had countless conversations of her becoming a Grandma. My dad is German and my mother was not but she wanted so desperately to be called Oma. I think it's because growing up my brother and I had a very strong bond with my Oma (my dad's mom). In fact, there were times my Oma would call my mom up and say, "pack up the kids, I am picking them up for the weekend." I asked my mom if that bothered her and she said, "well yes sometimes because I wanted to spend the weekend with you. But it was also very important to have your Oma spend special quality time with you as well. So I sacrificed, but I am glad I did because Oma is no longer with us. And now you and your brother have such special memories of your Oma that you will treasure forever. Just like I want to have, no I need to have such special treasured memories with my Grandchildren as well."

Little did I know while having that conversation with my mom on one of our 3 mile walks on a crisp fall day, that she would never be able to create those special memories with my daughter. While my mother was sick, after her diagnosis of a brain tumor, Tony and I desperately tried to conceive a child. I needed to give my mom a grandchild. I needed to make my mom an Oma. We tried so hard. We went through 3 rounds of invitro, one right after the other, only to be devastated after each failed cycle. "Please God", I begged. "Please God, let me conceive a child. Let my mom have her wish of becoming an Oma before you take her home."

But it never came to be. And after my mother took her last breath, my heart was shattered. Shattered into a million pieces that quite frankly has never been whole again. I let my Mom down. I did not make her dream come true. And I have carried that burden on my heart for 6 long years since she passed.

I guess I should have ran to the cemetery with Halainah the moment we got home from China. But physically and emotionally I just could not. I know Halainah would have loved her Oma. I know that Halainah would have begged me to let her stay at Oma's house for the weekend just like I did as a child. I know they would have had a special relationship. I know my mom would melt every time she see's my father holding, laughing and playing with Halainah. I know she would have been in total awe with her Granddaughter.

I suppose I take comfort in knowing that my mom had a very special hand in delivering Halainah to us. I know she knocked on God's door a bunch of times during our adoption process and asked for his Grace. I know that my mom is Halainah's special angel in heaven. And there are nights where Halainah is sitting up in her crib in a dimly lite room, where she is having conversations with someone. In the monitor I can see her looking up with her hands moving and talking up a storm. And I think, maybe just maybe she is talking to her Oma.


Halainah dressed so special to meet Oma.

She sort of just took everything in at the cemetery.

Almost as if she was in deep thought.

Maybe she was whispering soft thoughts to her Oma.

When Halainah was done whispering to her Oma, she ran...

straight to her Opa...
to shed some sweet love and let him know that Oma is happy in heaven.