Scads of fabulous things came out of my big move to Illinois nearly 20 years ago.
Getting to know Oma better is in the top five for sure. Have I mentioned Oma yet?
She’s this tiny spitfire of a Lithuanian woman who happens to be grandmother to two of my dearest lifelong friends.
Before she moved to an elder care facility to be closer to family, Oma lived in St. Joseph, Michigan – right off I-94 near mile marker 27. And right on my way home.
I’d pick her up any time a holiday or birthday beckoned us back and Oma, in her melodious broken English, would transform those long lonely rides into the world’s finest history, geography and social studies lessons.
She lived in Russia under Stalin. In a classic frying pan/fire maneuver, she escaped with her family to Germany.
“Stalin, no food card. Hitler, he give us food card.”
She has to be one of just a few remaining Europeans who can compare two of history’s most notorious sociopaths.
It always kinda cracked me up that somehow Hitler came out on top in Oma's mental cage match.
I can’t share a lot of what she experienced over there during that awful, wicked time.
But I can tell you that survival was foremost for Oma -- a tiny, strong, resourceful woman who somehow escaped not one, but two communist regimes to land safely in lower Michigan and rebuild a life with her only remaining daughter.
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More of Oma’s wisdom:
“You eat breakfast like king. Lunch, like prince. Dinner like the beggar. This is how you live long like me.”
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My all-time favorite Oma story is about her uncle – who, having very little tolerance for controversy or debate – hung a nail outside his front door as a warning to both family and friends who came calling.
“You religion, you politic, he say, hang HERE before you come in!” explained Oma, laughing and poking a wrinkled, bent forefinger at the air above the dashboard.
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I’ve been thinking about Oma's nail story a lot lately. I meant to get to it earlier in today’s entry, but Oma is great fun to write about as you can imagine.
Here’s the deal: My first ‘real’ job, after years of babysitting, was at McDonald’s. The very first lesson came day one from Donna, the sharp, no nonsense crew chief on the afternoon shift.
“Heather. Listen. If you have problems outside of work, you leave them at the door. When you’re here, you smile and you help your customers. You do not bring your home troubles to work. Got it?”
I got it. And I never forgot it.
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Sadly, some people don’t get that.
If they’re having a bad day, they wear it like a big, smelly turd on their shirtsleeve.
It’s ugly. It affects your work. Worse, it affects morale. And it leaves a bad impression on clients and co-workers, especially the precious new ones.
With my propensity for curse words and corduroys in the office, I am the last person who should be explaining professional behavior.
But when it counts – when it really matters – I think of Oma’s nail story.
I leave it at the goddamn door and I smile.
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I am listening to: Billy Ward & The Dominoes – Sixty Minute Man
I am reading: Rather Than Working (you should too)
And I am: Nailing it
4 months ago