Tante Karin

Both my parents are single children. Relatives are few and far between. The cousins that they do have are many oceans away.

Mum had one very special cousin. Auntie Karin Meyer ("Tante" for us German speakers). She died on the 11th of August.

Of all of Mum's cousins - Karin was the only one who has come out to India to meet Mum.


They had a special bond.

When the allied bombs started falling steadily on German cities in WW2, many children were sent away to the relatively safer countryside. My mother was one of these children.

At the age of six she was sent to the Black Forest to be with her mother's sister in the tiny village of Arnbach - while her parents stayed on in Leipzig.

It was three long years before Mum saw her parents again. Years when the evening radio broadcasts were monitored for information on where the bombs were falling - and what the progress of the war was. Years where all the children were thin - and potato peelings carefully saved to make soup from.

During these years Mum bonded with her cousin Karin - and that bond lasted a life-time.

A month ago Mum heard that Karin was judged to have terminal cancer. She knew that Karin was suffering from cancer - but Karin did not let Mum in on what was going on in her life. When the news came Mum felt that she must go and see her.

Amazingly, a few days later, she was driven by her cousin Otto to the hospice where Karin was. Mum did not know what to expect. Would she be rejected? Would Karin be willing to talk?

It was a beautiful time.

Karin was alert and so grateful to see Mum.

They were able to talk deep. It was as if they had not been apart. At the same time - they were able to speak about Karin's death and readyness to meet Jesus.

Karin was at peace.

At their last meeting - when Mum said goodbye - she said that she would 'meet Karin again.'

Karin smiled and pointed upwards.

Last week Karin's remains were placed in a small urn and buried under a tree.

We await her resurrection.