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She would have been 96 next month, but she died in her sleep in Germany. She was one tough lady who lived through some really tough times.
A couple of things about my Oma. She spoke 6 languages, loved to sing and because of the long distance between us, I didn't get to see her as often as I would have liked, but every time I did see her, most recently about seven years ago when I visited last, she was always in good spirits. She didn't have much, but you would never know it.
In her later years, she loved this soap opera. No matter what, she would watch it every single day. "Reich und Schõn". I think it was "The Bold and the Beautiful dubbed into German.
She was living in Moscow in 1917 and witnessed the revolution. I asked her what that was like. Her only recollection was, "It was very noisy."
She lived in Poland for a time. Some of her best food was Jewish in origin and she spoke quite a bit of 'yiddish'. I often wondered, but never asked if some of the friends she had were lost in concentration camps.
Her husband was drafted by the German army and never came home. She started a relationship with another man and had a son. Years after the war was over, she received a letter from her husband who was still alive and living in the Soviet Union. He had been taken as a prisoner of war and after the war decided to remain in the Soviet Union. She wanted to go see him, but this was during Kruschev and the family did not let her go. He died there and the family received a letter from the Soviet government with a picture of him in a casket.
She recalled a time when the Soviet army was moving quickly on the area where they were living. She had two small children at the time, one my mother. If I remember correctly, it was in what was formerly East Germany. They were among a large group of women and children trying to make it to safety over some pretty treacherous terrain. A farmer with a cart pulled by a horse saw the group and asked what they were doing. He started to cry and told them that they would never make it. He then loaded up his cart with half of the group, covered them with blankets and tarps and brought them to safety, coming back to get the other half.
I wish I had more details, but by time I was old enough to really be interested in asking these types of questions, she was no longer capable of answering with great detail. A tragic loss.
My youngest daughter does carry her name though, Lydia.
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