In loving memory of Elisabeth Neumiller 1913-2001
14 years ago today,
my beloved Oma passed away.
She taught me how to create,
a hand made soul filled life.
She left behind some tiny treasures,
that still sparkle bright.
Mundane little things,
her tools she used,
as a farmer's wife.
I now have her large green cookie tin,
with a windmill on the lid,
filled with her neatly folded,
unfinished embroidery work within.
Beautiful colours in their raw form,
of not yet tangled silken threads.
I haven't been able to finish it though,
my stitches are not "just like so."
Like on her perfectly crochetted slippers,
that kept her earth soles warm.
She took pride in her crafting skills,
and lovingly gave her creations a warm glow.
She got colour bold in her later years,
and I admired how she embellished,
with a few strands of red or white,
her usual plain Jane slippers,
of navy, chocolate brown, or black night.
She loved to cook,
loved company and feeding people even more.
I now have a humble but mighty wooden spoon.
As she passed down,
common sense knowledge,
of what is real food,
and the old ways on how to,
Grow, kill and cook things that were properly cared for.
Compassion is not always agreed upon and it's lessons hard.
Her recipes were never written down with pen and paper.
She wrote them into my heart,
Into my body when I was very young,
and stood on a chair,
next to her stove as she guided my hands,
and engaged my little senses.
She didn't just help raise me,
she gently illuminated my soul in my inner most Being.
She taught my little hands and eyes how to learn.
How to stir, pour, chop, shake, smell, taste, tilt head, squint eyes look hard...hmmm.
Stir, pour, chop, shake, shake, shake, wink, smell, taste.
mmmm smile and a little hug.
Natural magical ways,
passes on the secret to real Alchemy.
That's how one cooks and dances through chores,
to the rhythm of a life that is love.
Her fine bone china teacups and saucers,
with scarlet roses and gold filigree.
are wrapped carefully in a box.
I wish she was here for one more tea...
A robin's egg ceramic blue,
serving platter.
That thing is so heavy,
but made it's way to many family gatherings.
I miss your broken english Oma.
I miss the half german, english chatter,
our own little ways our family spoke,
was music to me.
Our family's soul song and voice died with you.
But your own unique ways in life,
those are blessings and they live on.
Some In a leather bound book,
with colourful ribbons to mark,
You know,
I know,
the important stuff.
A handmade patchwork quilt,
of colorful crosses,
made fom your leftover pretty floral dresses.
Turned into my grieving quilt,
my heart surprises me sometimes,
at how empty it can feel,
But I find my strength,
and feel your love.
when I wrap myself,
in this warm and comforting tapestry,
of memories sewn with love.
My Oma was a soulful real woman to me.
A down to earth natural beauty,
who smiled with her eyes.
and laughed and cried,
loved and hated,
cursed and blessed,
with her whole Being.
She comes now to me in my dreams.
In the darkest hours of night.
She gently hugs and comforts my child spirit.
She whispers,
shhhh everything's all right.
You just still need too learn how to laugh,
at those damn flying monkeys.
That gift you, my little creative warrior with nightmares.
I know it's hard and your tired of this after all these years.
She always comes after I have had,
some sort of bump, bruise or fall,
nasty brush with life.
The lttle life frights,
I'm really good at brushing off,
and rationalizing away by day.
But not honouring my own hurt in this way.
Causes unpleasant things to grow,
in my very own families dark shadow.
But through her guiding Spirit.
I know without a doubt,
Love embraces and transcends death,
and not to fear the shadow of the breath.
But fear the shadow within my doubt.
Her Spirit lives and is alive and well in this world.
Life is too short for foolish,
stubbornness.
Things are just too heavy and hard,
cold and dark.
when you carry pain inside your heart.
Be grateful you are walking around,
With bones that are still moving,
jiggling around in flesh and blood,
A powerful heart still beating!
Dance, run, jump, walk,
work hard,
play hard,
make love.
Really feel the wind.
Rise early with the sun,
embrace each brand new day,
be thankful for the fresh start you have been given.
Smell, feel, hear, touch, taste this in the morning dew,
Walk gently and confidently in the world,
Discover and focus on what it is noble about...YOU!
The human being.
Keep the earth firmly under your feet.
While you gaze in wonder up at those heavenly stars.
Never ever loose your sense of wonder,
and become disconnected from The Mystery afar.
Don't make things so complicated,
unplug everyday from your gadgets,
Connect with each other,
not as and through objects though.
But dare to love and touch each others hearts,
with tolerance, patience and compassion.
Do your best to love.
Each soul is pure divine light,
but while on earth,
you have to remember,
It's up to each of you to sometimes slay and kill those inner dragons,
the ones you know you cannot tame.
This is self love...
There is no need to feel shame,
for those really really hard choices.
When you know in your heart you are doing the best you can.
You will discover your power to silence the negative voices.
This is how you will transform all your inner demons into a powerful dove.
©Maggie McLeod 2015
