Going into my freshman year of college, I never anticipated studying abroad so early. I always assumed that I would at some point, but maybe when I was a junior or a senior. After all, it’s a lot of money and I’ve been lucky enough to travel to a lot of places throughout my life, so it never felt like a priority.
That being said, I also never anticipated losing my grandmother less than a week after moving into my freshman dorm.
My grandmother, who everyone knew as “Nanny”, was quite literally the most stubborn person I’ve ever known, and she refused to give up her independence even at age 91. She packed an insane amount of punch for being so small and thin. Born in Vienna, Austria in 1931, she, unfortunately, was up close and personal with the tragedies of WWII. She was lucky, however, to meet the most charming man I’ve ever known, my grandfather, or “Papa”. He fell in love at first sight and even learned to speak German in order to win her over and propose to her. They married and had three children, the youngest being my dad, and lived out their love story for over 60 years all across the world before settling in Fort Worth, TX. Nanny and Papa were constant reminders of unconditional love in my life, and I remember hearing endless stories of their incredible work ethic. They were the most affectionate couple I ever knew all the way until Papa’s death in 2015.
Nanny’s experience was a unique one, and I always cherished hearing her first-hand stories of the Nazi occupation and the air raids she suffered through. I was lucky enough to travel with my grandparents and parents to Vienna when I was 3 years old, but I was far too young to connect the trip with any sense of personal cultural identity. My mom was in the process of planning a trip to Vienna this year that Nanny would join us on, but unfortunately, she never got that far. In January 2022, she suffered a fall that led to a constant spiral of health issues, but she was incredibly insistent on persevering on her own. She resisted help from family as much as possible even towards the very end.
As I drove to Austin with my dad to move into my dorm, I knew that Nanny‘s condition was worsening. I was going through sorority recruitment that week and planned to drive home at the end of the week to visit her. However, on the night of August 18th, my parents called me to let me know she had passed. I felt insanely isolated as an intense wave of guilt for not visiting her one last time washed over me. I had to put a smile on my face and finish out the week knowing that one of my biggest supporters wouldn’t be there to celebrate my new milestones with me.
After walking into my first lecture after her funeral, my professor allowed Dr. Steve Hoelscher to come in and present his faculty-led study abroad program. He pressed play on a video and Billy Joel’s “Vienna” began playing. I immediately burst into tears. If I’ve ever been sent a sign by the universe, this had to be it.
During the application process, I wrote several essays detailing exactly why I HAD to participate in this program. Nanny’s death was still incredibly fresh on my mind, and I wanted nothing more than be able to walk where she walked and experience her home as a mature adult. Thank god I was accepted to the program because I will never shut up about receiving this opportunity. Knowing that we’re never promised tomorrow, this will be a once-in-a-lifetime experience that was impossible for me to pass up.
Although I never got to visit Nanny’s homeland with her more than once as a toddler, I’m overjoyed to be able to visit on a much deeper level in her wake. Deciding to study abroad has not only allowed me to connect with my cultural identity and with the memories of my precious grandmother but it’s also allowed me to connect with a brilliant professor and classmates who are all just as excited and passionate about Vienna as I am. Now I have a support system that will have my back no matter what, and I’m so extremely grateful that this study abroad fell into my life when it did.
I love you forever, Nanny.