Pauli

My grandma’s second name was Paula.
I had never paid conscious attention to it and there it is, written on a sheet of paper next to her hospital bed, few days after Christmas.

I feel oddly moved, surprised to encounter this seemingly unknown piece of my grandma’s identity here. „Paula“ – how delicate that sounds, so pure, so new and I can see her – as a little child, lucidly, before my inner eye.
„Oma! I didn’t know your second name was Paula“, I say to her, as I go from stroking her right hand to gently pressing and back to stroking it. „It is“, she says emphatically and her tired eyes light up.
„My godmother’s name. Paula“.

That’s when I remember. Aunt Pauli, my grandma’s godmother. She’d been named after her. So many times Oma had talked to us about her when we were still kids.
I had never met Pauli, and yet I believe to understand what she must have been like. A free spirit. A woman who refused to comply with societal norms, expectations and conventions and instead, lived on her own terms.
Who found her calling by doing what excited her. Who lived her life.

And in that moment, holding my grandma’s hands on her hospital bed, I realise that all of those ‚Pauli-attributes’ are also alive within her. The fierceness, the courage, the willpower, the delight – they inspired her and resonated with her because they are alive in her, too.
Hidden, guarded yet so alive.

Thank you, Oma,
for letting me meet those parts of yourself before you left to go home 🕊️.

Thank you for reminding me to pay attention to that which moves me, that which feels strangely familiar and natural and that which echoes, resonates within me.
It might be a reflection of that which is so very alive within.

Thank you for all the days, weeks, years of adventure, play, baking, painting, hiking, music-making, gardening and so much more.

I am a lucky grandchild.