When Dutch grandmothers attack

December 1, 2017 at 7:34 am | Posted in Uncategorized | 2 Comments
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I have just one memory of my father’s mother.

A looming, powerful presence in our lounge room – booming words I didn’t know.

‘Oma’ gave me small, red-striped candy canes.

Perhaps it was xmas.

She was on a world trip.

And, after single-handedly bringing 12 out of 13 kids through World War II, who could blame her?

My dad called it her ‘Glory Tour’.

He expected her to show off to neighbours upon her return.

As she left us, she souvenired some photos.

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I may be wrong, but I feel the way she did this is a poignant, silent testament

to a forceful character

forged in adversity.


To keep me in coffee, you may wish to

Whatever the sum, I’ll toast your health.


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2 Comments »

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  1. She certainly ripped you a couple of new ones! A powerful story, as ever. Thanks!

    • Very clever, Ad. Thank you x 2! 🙂


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