|Birth: ||Dec. 30, 1934|
|Death: ||Mar. 4, 1987|
My Mum was the second child born to Paul Schmitz and his wife Mathilde Schmitz, maiden name Lange. Mum died in 1987, after a relatively short battle with cancer, however some 25 years of fighting her incurable illness, and her elder brother Manfred Schmitz passed away in 2006.
Looking back in time, I have always had this feeling of complete love and protection. Mum got incurably ill literally after my birth, suffering from an illness called Lupus erythematodes. Which meant that she had to take cortisone on a daily basis, but she would never complain. On the contrary, she always had this love and care for other humans, for animals, and the permanent will to make a difference and to use her life to make life in general a lot better.
She had to go to hospital in regular intervals, always trying to prepare me for the worst case, for her never coming home again. And she would always ask me to never forget how much she loved me and that she would always be around, giving me help even if I did not see her.
As a child, you cling to every word your mother says, and I took this all to the bottom of my heart, and then tried to cover it all with emotional blankets. After all, I never wanted to give up that protection and love.
Mum always had a helping hand for people who were in need, made handcraft to sell it on school bazars, knowing that the money would go to India, to save orphans from starvation. And she always felt this this was not enough, she wanted to do so much more.
And all these years, though filled with pain caused by this awkward animal, lupus, as she would describe it, she was full of good advices, I had no secrets, but told her every single thing, she knew me inside out, and to me, this was just the way it should be.
When Dad got a very bad stroke one day before our German Christmas Eve in 1985, Mum once again took all her energy to fight for his getting back into life. After one week of coma, he woke up, spent another three months in hospital and then a further three months in a rehabilitation clinic. Then he was sent home, but by then, Mum had used all her energies, so she had to face another awkward animal ... cancer, and went through three chemotherapies. Losing all her hair was something she could deal with, tried to look at it from the funny side mentioning that she now looked a lot like Kojak (whom she loved to bits).
When she was sent home, she was very thin, worn out, and yet, I did not want to know the truth, pretending that, in some funny way, and because it had always been like this, she would also win this battle. She came home on February 20, 1987, but on March 4, God decided that his loyal servant who had never lost faith in him needed a rest, so he kindly took her home.
The actual reason of her death on that day was a total collapse of circulation, her heart stopped beating, and she was gone. After the first shock was over, our doctor let me know that this sudden breakdown had saved Mum from a few worse months that could have happened, months in which she would have needed morphium to ease the pain.
When she was buried on March 7, I decided to drop the working contract I had just signed for a company in Paris ... to stay in my dull little town and look after my Dad.
I know Mum never asked me to do this, she would not have asked, knowing that the Paris job would have been a unique chance for my career. But then again, it was my own decision, I simply had to do what I chose, because I meant to support my mother, give her something back for all the love she had given, for everything she had taught me, for being who I am.
In return, however, even after her death, God meant well and showed me that he approved with the choice I had made: 5 years after Mum's death, to the day, on March 4, 1992, her only grandchild, my son Philip Robin, was born.
And I know Mum knew it, I know she has been watching him ever since, knows him well enough to be proud of him.
I love you, Mum, I have always done and this will never change, and I shall miss you from the bottom of my heart until one day, we shall meet again.
Your loving daughter Edda
P.S.: Have to add something, the first virtual flowers and kind words have arrived for you, and ... it means so much to me to have you honoured.
So I do, with all my heart, thank everybody who has got the kindness to leave flowers for my mother. I shall never forget this gesture of sympathy, may God bless you all.
A special thank you to a dear new friend, Joanne, for kindly sponsoring my Mum's memorial page. Joanne, you are just wonderful.
Paul Franz Schmitz (1906 - 1945)
Mathilde Martha Lange Schmitz (1904 - 1981)
Friedrich Wilhelm Meinikat (1930 - 2011)*
Manfred Paul Schmitz (1929 - 2006)*
Ingrid Elisabeth Schmitz Meinikat (1934 - 1987)
Plot: Gummersbach, Westfriedhof
Created by: Edda Meinikat
Record added: Jun 07, 2008
Find A Grave Memorial# 27387381