Whenever we visit Oma, I talk to her in my very best Dutch, which isn’t actually very best at all, and Kevin occupies the children, interjecting the occasional question about family history. Between the Kevin and Oma, I am learning quite a bit about our past.
From today: Oma was engaged to Opa at 16, married at 24; the same age her mother married.
I also asked how she felt when my father decided to go to Canada at age 20. “He was only going for a year,” she said. She paused. “But when the year was up, he was already married.”
Oma offered to hold KE for the photo Oom Adri was taking, but he wouldn’t sit still. I like to tell him he’s a barrel of monkeys these days. It’s hard to keep the lid on, and I don’t know that I really want to.
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