My grandmother died last night. She was 99. She was very active right up until her death. She had a very good life.
Aside from the obvious sorrows that I have, the historian in me thinks about the past. Not just my memories with her, but all the things she has seen in the last 99 years. I simply can’t imagine her life.
She was born in Munich and raised with I believe six siblings. She was the last to pass.
She lived though both world wars. The Great War she was in Germany and her whole family almost starved, but they managed. Her dad was a cobbler – a great one. Legend has it that he fixed shoes for some of the Habsburgs although I have no proof of that. She fled Hitler in the thirties and watched WW2 from Chicago where she met my Grandfather, who emigrated from Latvia.
I simply can’t imagine what she thought about even the things that I take for granted today, like my Blackberry, coming from a rural community without electricity. They raised rabbits for food.
What about antibiotics? Cars? Indoor plumbing?
What a century this has been.