There’s never a good day for the doctor to tell your grandma that she has a tumor and will have to get surgery. But in the subsequent conversation in our family group chat, one word stood out to me: “Immerhin.” It’s a German word with many meanings, from “though,” to “anyhow,” to “in spite of things.” But it also means “at least.”
The longer I look at the dictionary, the more I feel there’s no English translation that quite captures this word’s spirit. For one, it’s a single word instead of a two-word phrase. And it always seems to carry at least a tinge of hope. The English variants can, too, but they still feel different.
In any case, there were many “immerhins” with regards to my grandma’s diagnosis. At least it’s a small tumor. At least the doc caught it when others wouldn’t have. At least it’s operable. At least they already set everything motion for her to have surgery within 10 days. At least she won’t need chemo. Immerhin, immerhin.
It’s nicer to receive great news strung together with the word “and.” “You’ve won employee of the month, and you’ll get today off.” But when it’s our turn to hear bad news, those, too, never come without a consolation prize: At least we can focus on “at least.”