Horst and Elly as grandparents
We lived in Chicago from August 1990 until December 1993. I had graduated from Northwestern University in June of 1993; your mother graduated with an undergraduate degree from DePaul in June of 1992, and she began her MBA the following September.
I had been applying to various universities around North America for a job for several months; I had had a phone interview with Texas A&M, and an in-person interview at York University in Toronto, but no offer was made. Thus, I began to work in a music publishing company in Chicago in September 1993 while your mother finished her MBA. Your mother already had an accounting job lined up in Chicago for when she would graduate after her classes ended in December 1993.
We found out we were pregnant in the summer of 1993, and the baby was due in April. We contacted the insurance company of your mother’s new company about coverage. We were told that since she had not started work yet, pregnancy was a pre-existing condition, and medical coverage would not extend to the delivery of a baby, regardless of whether she was working for the company by that time. We found out that the cost of a birth in private care in the US could be as high as $40,000.
We decided to move back to Vancouver after your mother’s classes finished to have our first child. I would continue to work remotely for the publishing company. The internet was not fully established at this time, so I ended up having to mail removable hard drives back and forth between Vancouver and Chicago for several months.
Returning to Vancouver
We left Chicago in the first week of December 1993, and drove back in our Honda Civic, purchased in February of that year (with help from Oma and Opa). We wanted to avoid any snow, so we took a southern route.
We arrived in Vancouver on December 23rd, 1993. The moving company had estimated the cost of the move to be between $1000 and $1500; when we arrived, we were told it cost $5000. We ended up taking the company to small-claims court, and won some of that money back.
An apartment in North Van
I had received a commission for a new work for the Vancouver New Music Ensemble, for a premiere in November 1993. I was flown out from Chicago for the premiere, and used the week to find an apartment for us. This ended up being on East 11th in North Van, about three blocks from Oma and Opa’s house; I would need to use the recording studio there for my upcoming commissions (I was working consistently with Dancemakers, a Toronto contemporary dance company during this time).
We lived in the apartment from December 1993 until June 1994; Kieren Dane Eigenfeldt was born April 18th of that year.
Unfortunately, the apartment, even though it was on the third floor, had a mouse problem. We were told to set out mouse traps, which, back then, killed the mice. The sound of mice dying was…unnerving, so we decided to move.
Oma and Opa suggested that we move into the upper suite of their duplex, which we did. We lived there from summer 1994 until May 1997.
Grandkids and a new life
I had met my own Oma only twice, and my connection to my German family was obviously limited; I did not want that for my kids. So, after moving to Maple Ridge in 1997, I made a conscious effort for our family to visit Oma and Opa every Sunday, in order to establish strong relationships between them and our children.
When Opa turned 70 in 1993, I remember the phone conversation with him, as he seemed quite depressed. Six months later, with the birth of his first grandchild, he found new life. After we moved in upstairs from Oma and Opa, they became a daily part of our lives.
Oma and Opa as caregivers
I was very lucky to be back in Vancouver when a job opened up at SFU for a Lab Instructor in the School for the Contemporary Arts. Lab Instructors are at the low end of the faculty pool, but faculty nonetheless. I started in September 1994.
When your mother wanted to return to some part-time work in the spring of 1995 – doing taxes for H & R Block – Oma and Opa offered to look after Kieren. Mornings had already consisted of Kieren visiting them downstairs, happily tearing up newspapers and being pushed around inside a shoebox.
Oma made an amazing cake that we all enjoyed tremendously; here is Kieren getting introduced to it early on.
Finding hidden easter eggs was not a German tradition, but Oma and Opa created an easter egg hunt in their backyard for Kieren’s first Easter.
When the shoebox got too tight, Kieren moved onto an overturned Ottoman.
Very early on, it became a tradition to celebrate Christmas Eve with Oma and Opa. And very early on, it became a tradition that all grandkids got spoiled.
Oma and Opa were always happy to join us on outings. Here is a trip to Stanley Park in February 1996.
Oma and Opa always visited for every birthday. Here they are in 1996, for Kieren’s 2nd birthday.
Kieren’s second Christmas with Oma and Opa:
Oma and Opa had a downstairs suite that doubled as a playcentre whenever we visited. Here is Kieren playing with the car carpet Opa had bought for him.
Moving to Maple Ridge
In 1996 while living in North Vancouver in Oma and Opa’s duplex, we became pregnant again. However, this time it became apparent after a few months that something wasn’t right. Your mother had to spend a few weeks in hospital in the final weeks of her pregnancy; the baby was due mid-February, but an emergency Caesarian-section was required on January 14 1997.
Daniel Dora Eigenfeldt lived only two days, having been born with the genetic defect of Trisomy-18. This was devastating to us and our family.
At some point in our mourning, it was decided to look to the future, and we decided to begin looking for a townhouse to own. North Vancouver was far too expensive; good friends of ours had just moved to Maple Ridge and purchased a townhouse; we found one in a few months, and moved there in May of 1997. Your grandparents contributed $30,000 to the down payment (which caused their will to be rewritten so that your mother received $30k less when they died; this was at the insistence of your aunt Janice) and $15,000 from Opa. We would not have been able to purchase a home otherwise.
Opa to the rescue
After we moved to Maple Ridge in May 1997, Oma and Opa would visit us regularly.
As homeowners, we could make changes and renovations to the place. Whenever I needed any help whatsoever, Opa was there.
In the townhouse, this started with help in the garden, including building a trellis, and culminated in building a music room inside the garage for my work.
Hayley arrives; May 1998
A year after the three of us moved to Maple Ridge, we were joined by the fourth member of our family, Hayley Francis.
Not surprisingly, Oma and Opa visited often, and pitched in to help.
Of course, the weekly visits to Oma and Opa’s continued, and their basement expanded to contain multiple grandkid things.
Our first house; September 2000
When we purchased our first house in 2000, Opa helped finish the downstairs suite so we could rent it out, helped build the Kidz Klub (which is still standing 25 years later!), and converted the front yard into a garden oasis.
Regular visits
We travelled to North Vancouver almost every Sunday to visit Oma and Opa. When we arrived at 4pm, cake and coffee was always ready for us. It was Oma who introduced Ethan to ice cream when he was two, perhaps the reason for his picky eating habits that lasted into his adolescence.
In May 2007, we got Lola, and sometimes brought her with us on our weekly trips to North Vancouver. Oma had a love/hate relationship with animals, but whenever she was with Lola, she loved her.
Christmas Eve with Oma and Opa
Growing up, my family celebrated Christmas on the 24th, a German tradition. Naturally, this was a tradition that we wanted to continue with our children. Every Christmas Eve we would spend with Oma and Opa in North Vancouver.
1999 and Hayley’s first Christmas with Opa
2004 Christmas Eve at Oma and Opa’s
Another German tradition was that the children had to sing a song before they could open their presents. Naturally, this also became required.
2006 – Christmas Day with Oma and Opa
We would spend Christmas Eve with Oma and Opa, and carry back to Maple Ridge a boatload of presents. Oma and Opa then would often come out on Christmas Day for the big Christmas dinner.
2007 – more gifts from Opa and Oma
Not surprisingly, Oma and Opa spoiled the kids with Christmas presents. Here, in 2007, Kieren receives a wallet with some cash from Opa.
2008 – Christmas at Willow Manor
Oma and Opa moved to the Willow Manor Retirement Community in September, 2008. They were able to enjoy two months together in assisted living; sadly, in late October 2008, Oma suffered a stroke, and had to be moved to more permanent care. Opa visited her every day.
Birthday Visits over the years
Oma and Opa never missed a birthday visit, often bringing Oma’s delicious birthday cake.
By the spring of 2008, Opa was 84 years old and Oma was turning 80. Oma was having more and more delusional episodes related to her progressing Alzheimer’s disease. So instead of asking Oma and Opa to come to Maple Ridge for Hayley’s 10th birthday, we celebrated in North Van instead. These are some of the last photos of Oma and Opa at their home, as they moved into the care facility in Maple Ridge a few months later in September 2008.
Special Relationships
Oma and Opa clearly established special relationships with their grandchildren.
Willow Manor
Oma’s Dementia and Alzheimer’s was first diagnosed in 2006. That summer, it had become apparent to me that she should no longer be driving. I went to her doctor and we were able to get the Province to send a letter to her to revoke her Driver’s Licence. This was the only way to get her to stop driving.
Not surprisingly, this had a further negative effect on Oma, as she valued her independence, and would drive all over Vancouver to pursue her hobby: shopping for deals.
Opa and I tried to convince her that it might be a good idea to move into a facility that catered to retired people, and that life would be easier. Again, not surprisingly, this was out of the question. Sadly, this had a negative effect on Opa, since she would occasionally get violent, and even wandered away from the house one evening.
By the summer of 2008, we were able to convince Oma that a move to Willow Manor would put her closer to me and the grandkids. We left everything in the house at 233 W. Keith, and simply took what was needed in their new home when they moved in September 2008. The cost was $3500 per month; their frugal lifestyle and Opa’s regular RRSP contributions did not make this an issue.
Oma actually enjoyed the new place, and Opa told me that he wished they had moved there years ago. They had seven good weeks there before Oma had a stroke in late October and had to be moved to Extended Care.
Opa continued to live alone in Assisted Living, and he happily participated in the various activities offered.
Opa was staying in assisted living, which meant he lived in an apartment that was cleaned by staff but furnished with his own items, and he made his own breakfast. Lunch and dinner was in a dining room, and he sat with others at an assigned seat. He told me he actually enjoyed this, talking with the other people at his table.
Opa and the cancer that never got him
Opa had been diagnosed with cancer in 2003, and had 3/4 of his stomach removed at that time. This was one of the major reasons why I did not accept a job in Hawaii; in fact, when we were to be flown out for the interview in April 2003, the plan had been to take Opa with us. A few weeks before we were to leave, something was wrong and an appointment was made with an oncologist. While we were in Hawaii for my job interview, Opa’s diagnosis was made and I found out he had cancer over the phone.
His weight dropped from 160 lbs to about 130 after that. During this operation, a tube was stuck down his throat for the operation that lasted several hours. After that, Opa could not swallow the same.
In 2006, he was diagnosed with colon cancer, and had a portion of his large intestine removed. While he was in hospital and Oma was living alone, it became apparent to me that Oma was having problems.
Some time after that, it was determined that the cancer had metastasized to his lungs, but only in a very small amount. The oncologist said that we should just wait and see what happened, which seemed absurd to me. We went to a Naturopath, who prescribed Green Tea and as much tumeric as he could eat. Opa became very vigilant with his diet, and the cancer never returned.
However, Opa had always had low blood pressure, and had passed out once at home in North Van around that time. In March of 2008, a combination of extremely low blood pressure, low iron, and pneumonia forced him into hospital. I was on a study-leave for the year, and I was able to visit him every day in the hospital. We spoke of plans of when he returned to Willow Manor, and how if he and Oma could be transferred to a public facility, his savings could last until they were in their 90s.
During his time in hospital, Opa’s swallowing became worse, so much so that he could barely swallow anything. In his third week in the hospital, it was determined that he needed an operation, and a stint was inserted into his abdomen so that nutrients could be delivered through an IV. Opa realised that he would never eat again; this was too much for him, and he essentially gave up the will to live.
I somehow missed this change in him. After the operation, he had been given a blood transfusion, and the increased iron in the blood perked him up greatly, so much so that I assumed he would be checking out of the hospital within a week or so. The doctors never gave me any indication that he was declining in health.
On Saturday April 11 2009, I was set to leave for a conference in Germany. I was excited, because I would be staying with my cousin Klaus for a few days. Opa and I talked on the Saturday morning about the conference, about seeing his nephew. He held my hand, and said “goodbye, Arn”. I didn’t realize until later that he was really saying goodbye to me; he didn’t want to stop me from going to this conference on his account.
On Monday, April 13th 2009 while with Gerda in Stuttgart, I received the phone call from your mother than Opa had passed in the night.
Oma’s last years
By the time Opa passed, Oma did not recognise me anymore, and when I told her that Opa had passed, it made no impression on her. I visited Oma every week, and she seemed happy to have a visitor, but she didn’t know who I was. One positive aspect of her life at this point was that she lost all of her guardedness, suspicion, and hostility to others, and became a joyful person who smiled and laughed again.
In December 2010, I was able to get her transferred from Willow Manor, which had still cost $3500 a month, to a public care facility in south Langley. As I sat in the ambulance with her during the transfer, I saw Langley for the first time, and this is what triggered our move. By March 2011, we had bought the house on 84th Ave and made the move.
On February 12th 2013, I received a phone call from the care centre that Oma had slipped into a coma. I went and spent several hours beside her, holding her hand, but left at dinner time to be with my family. In the middle of the night, I received the phone call that Oma had passed.
The Opa self-portraits
Opa had a life-long relationship with the camera. He seemed to have purchased one during the war, and took many photographs throughout his life (as evidenced by this archive!).
He took several self-portraits, which I present here. The dates are unknown.
The late 70s
Our German Family 