“Growing old really sucks, doesn’t it?” my aunt asked me as I left Milford Nursing Home after visiting my grandmother, who was quite sick.
In the past, I would agree without hesitation. However, I’ve developed a closer relationship with my ‘step’ grandmother, Oma (Dutch for Grandmother), and learned that growing old needn’t be so bleak.
At almost 94 years old, she has redefined for me what old age can look like.
For 40 years, the west of Ireland has been her home. As a survivor of the German occupation of Holland, her early years were tough. Living with the enemy shaped her into the strong woman she is today..
When asked about the end of the occupation, two memories stood out to her: Canadian soldiers giving her chocolate bars and the public shaving of female collaborators head’s.
She and her husband lived in Limerick during the 80s where they fell in love with Ireland, choosing to retired here. Throughout their marriage, they faced the world together, doing everything as partners. They even built the house she still lives in to this day.
Opa passed away during COVID, and she’s persevered on her own, despite the loss of a man who was possibly the only person who really knew how to handle her.
For all their idiosyncrasies and flaws, they were, in my opinion, soulmates. Adjusting to life without him was not easy, but she never gave up.
This May, her new mattress topper was delivered. After three hip replacements and many sleepless nights due to pain, she upgraded. I called over to help her with it.
Once unpacked, the cardboard box it was delivered in had to be discarded. The only problem is, we live in the middle of nowhere. After telling her I would flatten it down and take it to the recycling for her tomorrow, she wasn’t satisfied.
She announced that she would burn the box instead. Immediately. It was happening this instant, and I could help or go home. Off she went, a box of matches in one hand and a can of oil in the other.
Acquiring that topper was no easy task. She was offered one of ours, but it being nearly 15 years old meant she wanted a new one; secondhand wouldn’t do.
She looked at the tag and searched for the company online. It had changed both its name and owner, but she found the new company and emailed them a picture of the tag, asking if they could get her the same or a similar one.
You might think, “Okay, and?” Let me remind you, she is almost 94. Many of our parents’ generation struggle with WhatsApp. It’s impressive that she’s easily using an iPhone, iPad, and Bluetooth printer, all connected to her hotspot.
Every week we went shopping together. Leaving early around 9.30am, she drives the half hour to the supermarket.
As she cruises country roads, speed limits are mere “speed suggestions” in her eyes. There’s a reason she’s fearfully referred to as Niki Lauda in our house.
Once there, a handwritten list is produced, and we get to work. Prices are checked and tracked, while fruit and veg are scrutinised as if on trial. Without fail, a healthy dose of chocolate makes its way into the trolley.
After that, we visit another supermarket and the process is repeated. Next is the butcher and the bank. Then, upon her insistence, we often go to a café. Hot chocolate for two is ordered. If it’s not had out, she makes it at home. If I dare to offer to help, I get scolded and told to sit down. Her house, her rules.
She went on a two-week holiday this summer, whilst packing, she informed us that she wouldn’t be “wearing bikinis this year.” Her Baywatch days were finally over.
For over 70 years, she’s been the grocery shopper, party hostess, and guest caretaker. She’s moved house and country countless times. Pregnant and with a toddler in tow, she drove from South Holland to Switzerland with all their belongings in the car.
She’s determined and rarely accepts help unless on her terms, spending money isn’t an issue either, quality over quantity always.
Nowadays, she may need help with shopping bags and have strategically placed walking sticks around the house, but she’s still running the show.
Oma refuses to give an inch, because if she does, old age will take a mile.
I’ve learned from her to truly live each day like it’s your last. You hear this a lot, but how often do you see it? Life can be cruel and unpredictable; we can’t always control what happens to us.
However, what we do have control over, we often let slip away. If you don’t use it, you’ll lose it.
Dylan Thomas penned “Do not go gentle into that good night,” but Oma personifies it. Her love for life, and force of will to be reckoned with combine to embody “raging against the dying of the light”.