*Olga Abram, 1936-2013


This is a photograph of my mom taken when she was 26 years old.  My mom was beautiful. She also was a fierce defender of those who she believed were treated unfairly. I used to think she would have made a great attorney or reporter because she questioned everyone and everything.  She always wanted to know why or how come.  

As cancer overtook my mom’s body over the last year and she became increasingly bedridden,  I would leave her side and head out to assignments filled with heartache. I felt like she would have liked to have been with me, such as when I covered the space shuttle Endeavour‘s  entrance into the California Science Center last October.  My mom always wanted to be where life was happening,  learning from the people she met while taking the path less traveled.  Sometimes, when she was in a foreign city or town or even at a mall, she would go exploring for so long, she would forget every ache and pain, even go without eating. That’s how much she cherished experiencing the world.

It rained the July evening when my mom passed away.  The weatherman said rain had fallen in the area like that only two other times since the 1800s.  

She will be forever in my heart.


3 thoughts on “*Olga Abram, 1936-2013

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  1. The night is never complete.
    There is always, because I say it,
    Because I claim it,
    At the end of sorrow,
    An open window,
    A lit up window.

    There is always a dream on watch,
    Desire to fulfill, hunger to satisfy,
    A generous heart,
    A hand held out, an open hand,
    Attentive eyes,
    A life, the life to share.

    (approximative translation of « La Nuit n’est Jamais Complète » de Paul Eluard)

    1. Dear Michelina,
      I’m sorry it took me so long to thank you for writing this poem for my Mom. It meant so much to me at the time and still does. I couldn’t put into words then how the poem and your act of kindness made me feel. Thank you again for thinking of me and for reaching out. I hope you’ve been well.

  2. Susie, I am so deeply sadden by the passing of your mother. She was such a dear friend to me. Indeed she was a beautiful person inside and out. My deepest sympathy.

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