Dank je wel, mamma. Dank je wel, pappa. Ik denk nog elke dag aan jullie.
Tag: Mother
Missing Home
Today is a grey, rainy day. On days as this I miss my mother’s home.
Eleven Years
It’s hard for me to accept that I haven’t seen my mother in exactly eleven years. The sadness I used to feel is very different now. I find myself wondering what she would think of who I am now, how she would feel about my place in life. Whether she’d be proud and what she thinks I should improve.
The Privilege of Annoyance
Joasia and I are currently spending the day with her mother and her mother’s friend. Both are older and are peppering us with useless information. I don’t understand either of them so Joasia is taking the brunt of the annoyance. Looking at her deal with it is interesting since I will never know the privilege of getting annoyed at my mother or rolling my eyes at her insistence of sharing silly info with me. It makes me envious and sad.
Ten Years
Yesterday it was exactly ten years ago that my mother died. She died in a hospital in Imperia, Italy at 15:00. We went to the park where we spread her ashes, and remembered her by enjoying the warm weather, strong winds, each other’s company and all the excited dogs that were being walked in the park. Jody had made delicious sandwiches, I had brought ginger beer and vodka, and Robin had squeezed a bunch of limes, so we could make our own Moscow Mules. Ruurd and Moulsari were there as well. When the weather turned bad, we decided to have dinner at an Italian restaurant in Hoorn, ate food, had wine, drank limoncello until we were all drunk and happy. It was a good day.
(I think it’s really appropriate that yesterday was such a windy day. There was so much energy in the air. Wild is the Wind, after all.)
I realised that I haven’t been sad about her death for a long while now. Sure I’m sad, but not in a way that it momentarily stops my heart when I suddenly realise. Nowadays the first thought of the day after waking up is no longer the crushing realisation of her departure. She pushed me in the right direction and for a while the momentum was gone, but I feel like her death has now galvanised me and I have regained momentum in life. I can only hope that my brother and sister feel the same way.
