Six weeks ago, mom was still here.
There were many things she loved, but one passion was with her from the moment she got the space for it: gardening.
She transformed a dull driveway into a colorful oasis, complete with banana trees, and a greenhouse to grow plants and to keep the exotic plants alive during winter.
She also loved cooking, especially Indonesian dishes which reflected the roots of her mother’s family.
And if she would’ve had more than 24 hours in a day, she would spend the remaining hours making clothes for herself and others to wear for years to come. Because she could do better than most clothing brands, and… well, also because she was tiny, so sizing was a challenge.
Next to the things she loved, of course she also loved us. When necessary, she fought for what was right, to protect us and ensure a good future. I think it’s safe to say she did well.
We loved her back just as much.
Yes, all of this is in past tense. My mom decided to step out of life without warning in late October.
When people pass away, it’s always rough. This was on an entirely different level, though. Of course because she’s so close to me and the rest of the family, and because of the way it happened. It truly hit me in the face like a nuclear bomb, essentially numbing me to the point where I could only be physically present. Mentally, I was switched off.
I wrote a long in-depth piece about how I experienced those first three days, and what brought me back to my senses so I could be there for myself and the loved ones around me.
The week after that beautiful night was incredibly special for a different reason. It was a week in which I’ve seen the best of humanity coming out. Family friends were visiting and arranging things almost non-stop, beautiful people from friend and work circles cooked fantastic and much-needed dinners for us, a tailor who was redecorating their store made time anyway to get us well-fitting funeral clothing, and during said funeral all of us have seen the faces we love the most.
And… it’s a bit odd to write a review about a funeral, but I thought it was a beautiful one. Together we created a service which really fitted her. I’m thankful for having been able to contribute with a handwritten eulogy — something I wouldn’t even have imagined to be capable of at the start of that same week.
To everyone who was there for us when we needed it the most, in any way: I extend enormous amounts of gratitude. No matter how you were there for us: cooking, calling, sending a card, obtaining Very Specific candles, texting, ‘throttle therapy’, sending flowers, visiting, helping to plan the funeral, or holding us in our thoughts. These things are all significant and I can’t think of a way we could’ve managed it without you.
I can only wish that when the time comes that you need this, I can be there for you too. Thank you.
Mom: thank you for giving us the gift of life and love. I can only hope we made yours worth it, too. If there is such a thing as an afterlife, I hope they let you loose on the gardens up there. Or that you reincarnate as the world’s most cuddled house cat.
I close my eyes
And imagine you’re here
Did it all seem so hopeless?
Given the chance
I would ask
Forgive meI didn’t do a thing to make you stay
I didn’t say a word to make you stay
If I would have known
Could I have tried to make it easier?
But I didn’t do a thing
Or say a word
One wordAnd I don’t know why you’re gone, now you’re gone
-“One Word” (Anouk Teeuwe & Bart van Veen)
No beautiful goodbye
You will never leave my mind
And it turns out to be so much different than our dreams
Now you’re, you’re a star in heaven
