My mother is one of the world's best storytellers. Whether she tells it or writes it, the words have such passion and flourish, you can see the images in your mind, just as though you were right there yourself...in the story. She has often been told she should write a book and maybe someday she will tell the story of her remarkable life and the hardships endured...growing up in Germany during the war, losing her mother to tuberculosis when she was a young girl, being sent away to work as a cook in a big fancy hotel in Hamburg when she was only 16 and all the stories inbetween...like the time she was punished for stealing apples when she was hungry and the time she nearly drowned swimming alone in the Aller River...This is the only photo we have of my mother's mother, Herta, with my mom, Marion when she was only 2. It was taken in 1941. Herta sure looks fancy with her fox stole, a piece that remarkably endured the years and now hangs in my closet. Look how proudly she is showing off her daughter...and her hands, how much they resemble my mother's...It just goes to show how important photographs are...how cherished this ONE image is...
When my mother and father married in Toronto, she wore a black dress simply because it was the best dress she had. She worked for a family that had 8 children, cooking cleaning and taking care of the kids...until I came along in 1960...
Eventually we made our way to California, arriving in this "old jalopy" as my dad calls it with only $80 to our name. All I remember is that we stayed with a family who had a daughter named Cookie...I just loved that name!...until my dad got settled in a job and we took an apartment in Santa Monica. My sister, Janet was born in 1963 and my mom kept pretty busy sewing matching outfits for us, darning our socks, fixing our hair into such tight buns we had instant face lifts, cooking, cleaning and baking. There were a few stints inbetween as a waitress at Ray's coffee shop where she splashed a glass of water in a rude customer's face and at the German Delicatessen where she worked for Gerda, a woman with boobs bigger than Dolly's...
My mother has always been there for me when I needed her 
most...throughout my childhood of course, but when our own twins were born, she was with us for 2 months (leaving my father to fend for himself), cooking dinners, cleaning and oh yeah...helping out with the babies. She even took a night shift every night feeding the babies, so Doug and I could get a few hours of sleep. In 2006, my mother was here within 12 hours after learning that I had just received 60 stitches and staples after splitting my forehead open in a horrible car accident. She helped me wash and comb my hair without pulling any staples out and went with me to doctors appointments. My mother is good at many things, but especially at being a grandmother or Oma, as her 6 grandchildren call her. All the grandkids (my sister's 4 boys, Wesley, York, Rio and Daniel) and our own two, Sam and Larissa just LOVE going to Oma's Beach or Oma's Country as my twins call it. Oma lets them play on the beach all day. She buys them Hot Dogs on a Stick and lemonade. She lets them swim in the pool and play in the jacuzzi until dark. She cooks them noodles and makes delicious salmon sandwiches. For once, she leaves 
the house a mess and doesn't make the bed, because spending time with the grandchildren is what's most important. Mammi...I know you don't want or need anything and so I didn't buy anything, but I made something for you... You will find it on my website under "portraits"..."at Oma's beach" is just for you!
Thank you for everything. I love you! We all do! Happy Mother's Day!
Love, Susann
Looks like summer is finally here in Montana and that means that Father's Day is just around the corner...time to fire up the barbie!
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