I was over at my friend's house on the last day of November for our traditional Friday night get - togethers, and we were just going on the computer as usual, when suddenly I had a strange urge to make a cake. I had no idea why, but It was just something I felt like I absolutely, no question, HAD to do. I anticipated making this cake so much that I left my friend's house 30 minutes earlier than I was supposed to be home by, and set to work on my cake. We almost NEVER have cake mix at my house, but, strangely enough, we had one box of vanilla cake mix that night. I decided to use the box and make my own chocolate frosting from scratch. It was around 10:00 and my parents were yelling at me that I should not be starting to bake at 10:00 at night, but I was persistent. I actually remember saying "No mom, you don't understand, this is just something I have to do" even though I had no idea why I had to do this. It was the weirdest feeling, it was almost as if i would stop at nothing to get this cake made. I worked hard until midnight, making sure the cake was absolutely flawless, but it was only me and my family that I was baking for. I woke up the next morning on December 1st and had a piece of the cake, and it was delicious.
So far this story has been pretty boring, but it gets stranger. Before I go on, I should explain: My Oma used to live with us, and we were very close with her, but she passed away when I was in Kindergarten. In our kitchen we have a chair that we still call "Oma's chair" because that was the chair she always sat at. So the next day, December 2nd, I was at dinner and sitting in Oma's chair, when my sister said "I can't believe it's already December 2nd".
"Wait a second," i said " that means that Oma's birthday would've been yesterday!" It would've been her 98th birthday. My dad looked at me kind of strangely and said "I thought that's why you made the cake." And suddenly all of the pieces fit together. Don't you think it's a bit of a coincidence that I felt so oddly compelled to bake a cake and make it perfect the day before my Oma's 98th birhtday, and I didn't remember that it was her birthday at all? And I realized that the first piece I'd had of the cake I ate on December 1st, her birthday, and in Oma's chair. Oma loved food, and I can imagine her in heaven craving a nice vanilla cake with chocolate frosting for her birthday. It makes me feel so much better about her death, though it happened many years ago, since I now know for sure that she is, and always will be, watching over me.