Sonya's Words

These are the words Sonya wrote for Oma's service with accompanying photos.

Oma
Going to Tauranga was Oma and Opa. And when I think of Oma I think of her food. Cooking for her family was her way of showing her love.

Cherry pancakes sprinkled with crunchy sugar, with stones that you had to dodge or you might break a tooth. Oma’s famous meatball soup. Dad and Opa bringing fish home and eating hot fried fish late at night, with mayo of course. Sweet, hot custard with fruit that I loved so much, even if it didn’t make it with me over the Kaimais.

Always Oma would insist “stay the night”. And then waking up early, watching the sun come up over the harbour with Oma. Boiled eggs and toast and tea, which just kind of stretched into morning tea and then suddenly it was time for lunch. Always there was a half round wheel of Edam and mandarins. Soft butter in the drawer. Fruit krantenbolletjes (krant-ten-boll-et-ches) (– fruit buns).

And when new cousins were born, out came the blue or pink “musijes” (mouse-ye’s), the aniseed balls on crackers. Little rituals from Holland that I didn’t understand but loved.

And cousins, so many cousins! What a huge family we have. Always running across the road and playing with the “Tauranga cousins” Heidi and Shane and Benji, Johanna Stevie and Antonia. Oma and Opa’s garden was the best playground in the world. I still remember the day we all broke the clothesline. Boy- did I feel bad. I got all the blame cause I was the oldest and should've known better than to hang 8 kids off it.

I remember being amazed at picking fresh strawberries with Oma. And blackberries too- as she got older her garden simplified, but always there was colour and flowers. Real ones as well.

Easter time was always Tauranga time. And that meant an Easter egg hunt with all the cousins. Searching under trees in little grass nests, we’d find chocolate eggs, melting in the sun. Sticky and covered with grass- we’d eat them anyway. And then boiled eggs in one of Oma’s prized eggcups- the choice we had!

And when it was finally time to leave, there was a set ritual. First we had to “make a picture”. All the family present was lined up along the front steps and Oma would bring out her trusty film camera (no digital nonsense for her!). Opa would pick us a bag of plums off Nelly’s tree or a bag of mandarins. As we back out the drive they would wave goodbye from the letterbox until we were out of sight. Every time.

Oma taught me the value of family and how simple rituals become treasured memories. I also inherited her love of a bargain and one day I hope to rival her egg cup collection!

When I was a little girl only I had an Oma, everyone else had Nanas or Grannys. And now I live in Holland and there are Oma’s everywhere. Everywhere I go I am reminded of her. I will miss her so much.

Thinking of you all, especially Opa.
Sonya

 

Cherry pancake

 Easter egg hunt