Christine Sophie Bays

Our beloved mother, sister, and grandmother, Christine, passed peacefully in her sleep in the company of family on a sunny fall afternoon in Centerville, Ohio. She was born into and died during her favorite season – a season she loved for its pink, purple, and yellow leaves –which she called tiny, twirling songs.

She loved to sing, and fall was the season to practice songs prior to the Christmas holidays for the church choir. For decades of her life, she belonged to the Catholic Church choir in Otterbach, Germany, her hometown. Memories of her and her brothers and sister singing songs in the house of Lina Kohlmayer, their mother, abound. Toni, her brother, who has also since passed, was an opera singer, and his voice vibrated the room while her younger brother Rainer, a College Professor who resides in France, and older sister, Gisela – also now departed– echoed the warmth of holiday cheer.

One would never have guessed the hardship of Christine’s life when hearing these songs, when seeing her laugh till tears trailed down her cheeks, when seeing her pick wildflowers or dress in colors as bright as her personality. As a child growing up in Nazi Germany, Christine watched as her father, Anton Kohlmayer, marched into a Russian winter – only to never return. He was a humanist, an artist, not a soldier, she told everyone. He loved birds, as much as she did, and drew pictures of the poor he met when he was in Russia. She inherited his grace and compassion for others. At the end of WWII Christine was starving when American soldiers arrived in her hometown. American medics gave her iron shots and food. As a young teen, having barely survived the war, she viewed American soldiers as heroes.

She married an American – Rush Edward Bays – who served in the Air Force while she worked as a secretary and translator in Germany (She lost her husband Rush, a Vietnam vet, when he passed away of cancer before he reached the age of sixty). Though never having had formal schooling beyond elementary school, Christine’s gift of gap found its way into writing, poetry, and translating. Her love of music and languages found their way into the hearts of her sons Christopher and Markus when she read and sang to them as children. Christopher became an English Professor, and poet, and Markus became a physical therapist with a breathtaking music collection and strong musical ear. She was so proud of her children.

Her grandchildren, Harrison (Markus’s son) and Julia (Christopher’s daughter) gave her boundless joy later in life. Photos of them lined her room. She often talked about them to people she met, such as a young staff member, who helped her when she needed nursing care. She insisted that we give this staff member a blanket to keep him warm when she found out that the heating in his apartment, one winter, was not working. She supplied nurses and nurse’s aides with chocolates, stories, and wisdom. She often said, “Do not let tyrants govern your life. Fill life with love instead.”

Her generosity, kindness, and spritely spirit will always be in our memories as we – her sons, surviving family members – watch her tiny songs come twirling down –