They have Guns!
Yesterday, as I walked through security at Alicante Airport, I saw a sign for the Guardia Civil, and I couldn’t help but laugh out loud. It reminded me of you and your classic warning: “Careful, it’s the Guardia Civil—they have GUNS!”
My Focus: Helping Others with Grief, Loss, and Self-Growth
I’m focusing more on supporting and promoting resources around grief and loss. Projects like the Forget Me Not podcast and discussions about ambiguous loss have given me purpose. Slowly but surely, I’m finding ways to help others navigate these challenging experiences.
Reflecting on Our Relationship
I don’t want to create a narrative that suggests our relationship was perfect—it wasn’t. I think back to times when things didn’t go smoothly. That’s part of any relationship. Looking back, there were moments when I stopped investing in us and unfairly expected too much from you.
But I also remember when we found our way back to each other, especially during the time we spent renovating the house in the UK. Traveling and working together brought us closer, rekindling our connection in a way I’ll always treasure.
Our First Time Together and Feeling So Relaxed
One of my favourite memories is from Amsterdam, with you, Adam and Claudia. I think it was the first time Adam and I went out together with you two. On the night train back, I rested my head on your lap, and I felt so at ease, so comfortable with you. That’s what stands out to me—you always made me feel completely at ease.
Parenthood and Emotional Growth
Sometimes, I wish I could have been a parent. Looking back, I see that I lacked the life experience and emotional maturity to take on that responsibility. You ended up looking after me emotionally, and I leaned on you more so much.
It took nearly 50 years—your illness and my crisis with grief—for me to truly grow emotionally. I’ve learned so much about myself and how to manage my emotions. At my core, I’m still the same person, but I like to think some of the rough edges have been smoothed out.
Why Don’t We Talk About Death?
It’s strange, isn’t it? Death is such an important part of life, yet we rarely talk about it. It’s almost taboo. Even when faced with someone who is dying, we often avoid the subject.
A friend recently mentioned their mother-in-law is in her 80s and showing signs of cognitive decline—clearly entering the final phase of her life. Yet, they don’t feel comfortable discussing it with their partner. Another friend shared their father is retiring and seems anxious. After 40+ years of work, what lies ahead for him? Retirement, then… death.
When you became ill with FTD, I started to confront death more directly. It changed me profoundly. I became determined to make the most of the time I have left. If you hadn’t gotten sick, I imagine we would’ve had a more traditional retirement—spending most of our days in Lo Pagán. But I wonder now, what would I have done with all that time?
During the time I took off to care for you (and as I struggled with my own mental health), I realized that spending day after day in Lo Pagán, eating out every night, might have become monotonous. I thought we’d travel a bit, but now my life looks so different. Stepping away from my career 3.5 years earlier than planned has opened up a new path for me, with entirely different priorities.
You Are with Me Again
Today, I picked you up from the crematorium. It was a difficult moment, knowing that you are in the urn. Considering it is a standard urn it is lovely – apparently it needs to be black for travelling outside of NL and I have a certificate so you can travel with me. Together, we rode on the scooter from Hofwijk through Overschie and into the city. You even joined me for a massage at Khlay Zen Thai Massage on the Oostzeedijk.
The Maluku Museum in Den Haag
I visited the Maluku Museum in Den Haag to explore your roots. I need more information about your grandparents, but they’ve pointed me toward resources to continue my research. It feels important to trace your family’s history—another way of keeping you close.
