Vreemd hoe ik met de dood om ga. Zondag is mijn grootmoeder (“Mémé Binko” zoals we zeggen) op tachtig jarige leeftijd overleden en eerlijk gezegd, ik zit er hier gewoontjes bij; Na reeds 2 overleden grootouders begin ik het “normaal” te vinden dat grootouders nu eenmaal sterven.
Vreemd hoe ik plots aan mijn pépé (haar man) – die als eerste in de rij grootouders stierf – denk. De laatste keer dat ik hem zag was zo’n 8 (?) jaar geleden in het ziekenhuis. Zo herinner ik me m’n pépé: afgetakeld in een ziekenhuisbed. Met allerlei biepende toestellen aan hem gekoppeld. Met een plakkertje over de ogen.
…
Vreemd dat ik bij het terugdenken aan m’n pépé het wel lastig krijgen; Terwijl ik dat bij m’n mémé niet heb. Nu, ik heb mezelf ervoor beschermd: bewust niet naar het ziekenhuis gaan, bewust ze niet in afgetakelde toestand te zien. Ik wil m’n mémé gezond herinneren, niet al stervend.
Zondagmiddag haalde m’n mama een foto van m’n pépé boven. Hij had haar (toen een jaar of 10) op de arm. Hij gooit haar in de lucht en kriebelt haar, zo leid ik uit de foto af. Het beeld doet plots een belletje afgaan: Mijn pépé deed dat ook met mij, ik zie het zo voor mij. Ik glimlach.
Vreemd. Vreemd dat ik voor de eerste maal sinds de dood van m’n pépé hem niet “al stervende” voor de geest haalde.
Ik mis je, pépé.
February 9th, 2009 op 1:00 pm #
marianne verheecke
Deze ontroerende blog is voor altijd in mijn geheugen gegrift , ik ween en voel tegelijkertijd verdriet : ik ben immers dat tienjarig kind op die foto . Bedankt Bram .
February 9th, 2009 op 8:40 pm #
Manuel Martensen
I know what you mean, I as well have these “suffering” images in my head, how Grandpa Sophus—my idol—looked like in the coffin. He looked weird, unfamiliar. He looked just way too dead.
But i am kinda glad that i saw him like that. Don’t ask me why. Maybe because looking like that was as well a part of him. Bleah, i have no idea. But when I think about him now—which happens almost every day—i see the other stuff, the good times. When he was healthy and doing the coolest things with me in the garden. 🙂
My other grandma looked like an angel in the coffin, everybody thought so that day. She looed kinda glad that it was all over. But me and Janina remember the good times when we think about her, we hardly think about the coffin part. But i am again glad that i saw her in the coffin as well.
These days i am scared to see my last grandma go. She is my last contact to the “old world” and my last contact to grandpa somehow. It scares the shit out of me, but i hope i can be by her side when it’s time. And even if i wish to be with her then, it scares the shit out of me even more.
So here we go again, some tears in my Frisian eyes. But I am smiling. 🙂
Hey, maybe they have some sort of an archive over there, maybe they can check who is friends with their folks (you know, so it won’t get boring there), maybe they all talk about us already and wonder what this stupid internet thing is were we met and became friends for life. 😀
Oh, now that i talk about it: My grandma never made a big fuzz about death; someone died, ok, that’s the deal, life goes on. We had the best family reunion after the funeral. We played darts and cards and laughed about all the funny stories everyone remembered about her. 😀
February 10th, 2009 op 7:12 pm #
Bram Van Damme
“But me and Janina remember the good times when we think about her, we hardly think about the coffin part” — The strange part I encounter(ed) was that I only could remember my grandpa dying, in the hospitalbed. It wasn’t until this weekend that I remembered him living. Hoping to get more flashbacks in where he’s the jolly good fellah he was.
“These days i am scared to see my last grandma go” — I’m not afraid of that, I know it’s supposed to happen … yet I am afraid of only remembering her dying, as I had with my grandpa.
“some tears in my Frisian eyes. But I am smiling.” — Heh, same thing when I was writing this post 🙂
“Maybe they all talk about us already and wonder what this stupid internet thing is were we met and became friends for life” — Pretty sure they are watching us … and do in fact are wondering why that silly Belgian fella became friends with their grandson 😀
“My grandma never made a big fuzz about death;” — Neither did my grandpa. He always said: “if it’s your time to go, it’s your time to go” but then in a real funny way (dutch): “Als ze hierboven uwen ticket aftrekken, is’t gedaan mee u” (could be translated to: if they above pull your number, you’re done)
“We had the best family reunion after the funeral. We played darts and cards and laughed about all the funny stories everyone remembered about her.” — Note.to.self: must.bring.cards.next.friday 😉