Leonora's 78th birthday

Today is my Oma's birthday and my aunties are pulling some crowd from Oma's choir and tend us an afternoon service in our family's headquarter.

It was fun to say the least. You can learn so much from this specific bunch of people. Like how much they know about Chairil Anwar's life and death, how they read the song before singing it (then my brother told me he'd realized it was Ada Band's song?) or how old people past the age of 70 still flirt with each other.

(Hoho, now I need to stop).

Oma is one little lady. Her name is Leonora but her family calls her Toet. In Dutch it means little. My brother and I made fun of it when we were much younger. We called her Oma Toet Toet which sounded like those children song about the train and laughed like crazy. It is not so funny though, now.

Up until I was in high school Oma still went everywhere riding that crazy Metromini. However, she was one hell of a driver herself, I heard, back when my father and his sisters were kids. My father comes from big family of seven siblings but Oma could fit all of them in one tiny soap car (I'm so bad with car type) then she drove away like today's 'angkot' driver. I also heard that it was where we, the Toisuta ladies inherit our driving skill from.

My Oma is one religious lady. She took me to a separate room every year during my birthday to pray. Usually at 6PM because she said it was my birth time. She is a total opposite of my late Opa. Opa was not religious but very charming. It is either that or may be I just need an older man attention (hoho) but if Oma is beside him, she seems non-existent. All of my childhood memories about her is the one that we spent only the two of us with no other person in sight.

But I know she loves Opa so very much. She told me once that she and Opa would write to each other during the war time. But since her mother (my great-grand mother) is against the relationship, she would write his name in code:

1 3 0 1 3

My Opa name is Bob, a short for Robert.

When Opa died back in 2006, she suddenly suffered dementia. She would call me another name (usually my aunt's name). She would misplace things. She would looked at me and shocked why I'm doing around while I've been there all along. But as time passed, it heals and she is back to her tiny sweet lady she has always been.

So today she's 78th. Growing up I've always been respecting her, but now I admire her for what she has done for her family. Especially her unfailing love for her children and husband. I could only pray that my life would be half as good as hers so I could passed on to my own grandchildren the love I've received from her.