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When my 88 year old grandmother Hilda found a boyfriend before me I was caught between feeling happy for his good fortune and feeling sorry for not having been so lucky in romance. . She wrote me an email to share the news of her match and added at the end: “My aunt always told me that every pot finds its cover, and it is true! I am sure it will happen for you.
But over the months, I continued to be single and slip away while Omama fell in love.
Hilda – affectionately known in our family as Omama (grandmother in German) – had not been out since my grandfather Hershy passed away 20 years earlier. Omama and Hershy had met at a New Years party at UCLA. Omama was finishing his bachelor’s degree and Hershy was working on his doctorate in psychology with the help of GI Bill. She tells a famous story whereby she knew he was “The One” right away, even though it took six weeks before he finally called her to ask her out. She still wears her wedding ring as a tribute to their marriage, which spanned four decades.
He was the love of her life and a testimony to their children and grandchildren that a long and happy marriage was possible. They liked to run together. Omama’s shelves were adorned with photos of her and Hershy at the finish line of various races in Los Angeles over the decades, with broad smiles on their faces. Omama and Hershy were #lifegoals.
Since Hershy’s death, Omama had spent most of her evenings studying Torah or watching “Jeopardy” on her own. She grew up in Berlin and managed to escape Nazi Germany on the Kindertransport, an organized rescue effort that brought nearly 10,000 Jewish children to Britain in the late 1930s. From there Omama immigrated to the United States and his family opened a chicken farm in Van Nuys.
She was often called upon to speak at public events about what she witnessed in Nazi Germany. In April 2015, Burbank City Council invited Omama to be honored at City Hall for speaking to middle school and high school students about her experiences during the Holocaust. They informed her that another honored person would pick her up and drive her to the event.
Omama was surprised when they sent a 92-year-old Austrian Holocaust survivor elegantly dressed in leather brogues and a felt hat. His name was Herb.
At the end of the event at City Hall, Herb took Omama back to her home in Studio City. As he got to the house where she had raised three boys, he stopped to ask, “Would you consider going out to dinner with me one night?”
Omama said she had not given Herb a response, but the next day he emailed her reiterating his request for a date. Omama called my father (his youngest son) for advice. ” I do not know what to do. I don’t really know him, ”she said. My father told him that he was sure the man was okay, that he was 92 years old. And so, with my father’s blessing, Omama agreed to accompany Herb to dinner.
Omama and Herb quickly bonded over their trauma of escaping the Nazis and the experience of rebuilding their lives in Los Angeles. Their weekly meetings extended to frequent company. Herb drove Omama to the theater and Trader Joe’s, and Omama cooked Herb’s dinner. Soon she was no longer watching “Jeopardy” alone. She began to affectionately refer to Herb as “Herbie”.
Omama was particularly impressed that Herb could drive at his age. He was ready to take her anywhere she wanted to go, including Lake Hollywood for her daily walk with his walking group.
And yet, I was single and I was slipping.
Omama emailed me again, this time with a photo of Herb and her in Lake Hollywood. Herb had since joined the walking group, keeping pace with the mile. I responded with my congratulations and my wish to find an herb as well. Omama quickly replied, “Love is in the air, so you will have one soon. Love, Omama.
She also included an email from Herbie himself, with dating advice he wanted her to share with me. He warned against alcohol consumption – “Stay away from bars; what you find there is probably not of good quality. He advised meeting people on dating sites only in public until they are deemed trustworthy – “Treat dating sites with extreme caution.” And above all: “Be yourself. Be who you are. Be authentic.
Omama turned out to be a fortune teller. During the year, Christian (6ft 3in with a bio proclaiming “Let’s do artistic things”) appeared on my Tinder screen. I swiped to the right and asked him if he would like to meet on Sunday. “I have plans for Sunday. Thusday?” Ah, a man with plans. A man who plans plans. A thousand-year-old unicorn.
I met Christian, an Internet man in a bar, breaking two of Herb’s rules in one go. We met in public, so I got it right. I had made it to the agreed meeting place, preparing for another bad first date. Fearing to be early, I walked around the block, but when I approached the front door, I saw that he was also early. We talked for hours and drew on a piece of paper together. Art things. We drew lines crossed on top of each other, lost in good conversation and a smoky mezcal.
I called my parents to tell them my good fortune: I had met someone I like who loves me too. “But you won’t like his name,” I said. His German surname sparked the question of what his grandparents were doing in WWII (fighting for the Allies, as it turned out). But once my parents met Christian, they approved of his kindness, his enthusiasm for conversing in German with my father and playing tennis with my mother. He also brought a large pot of locally grown catnip for the family cat. I had found my Herbie.
Christian and I have been together for almost six years now. We had planned to get married in front of our family and friends last October, but the pandemic thwarted our plans. Deciding not to postpone our nuptials, we got married legally by our rabbi in a private ceremony on October 9, 2020. Our big wedding with family and friends has been postponed until summer 2022.
Herbie and Omama, now 98 and 95 respectively, are still going strong. At recent Omama birthday party in my parents’ backyard in Redondo Beach, I watched Christian and Herb greet each other, two wonderful men, and smiled at the luck my grandma and I finally shared.
I can’t wait to see my grandma arrive in the parking lot of our wedding venue next year with Herbie behind the wheel.
The author is a psychotherapist and a writer. She and Christian have a rescue dog, Clover.
Omama and Herbie, on one of their daily walks.
(Julia Simone Fogelson)
LA Affairs tells the story of the search for romantic love in all its glorious expressions in the LA area, and we want to hear your true story. We pay $ 300 for a published essay. Send an email to [email protected]. You can find the submission guidelines here.
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