She was taken from her family to work as forced labour on a German farm during the war.
She came to Canada with her two young children and had my mother in a Northern Ontario town, where my Grandfather worked in the gold mines.
She lived to be 85 years old, had four children and nine grandchildren, and was still alive to hold four great grandchildren.
I was thinking of my grandma as I went for my walk early this morning. It's good to be here.
Life is hard. We have to pull ourselves up out of bed every day and keep going, even though our days are at times tedious, a struggle, painful, and filled with sadness. We do this in hopes that one day we will be the person who others look back upon with fondness and love, and remember our wisdom, our wonderful secret recipes, our quirks and foibles, and the indomitable spirit that makes us just who we're meant to be--different from anyone else.
It's good to be here.