VIOLATED TRUST
Slowly the traffic from the city Surabaya dawned on her. There I was, 6 years old, together with my mother in a “dokkar” (horse carriage). I looked at my beautiful dress, which I’was allowed to pick out myself. The horse was galloping gently with bells tinkling, the coachman gave light taps with his whip. My mother looked beautiful. Very happy I looked at the bustle around me, for once just alone with my dear mother without my brother. My mother said:" my darling girl, we are going to visit your uncle, dr. Hammacher in the hospital for a while, before we go together to the city". I nodded. My uncle was familiar to me, he was a cousin of my father. I had even lived with him for 3 months, when I was 2 years old. Vaguely I remembered some things, lots of freedom and attention. Skipping joyously, I walked with my mother into the hospital. A nun greeted my mother and me and said: the doctor is in the operating room, you know the one around the corner, third door. And there he was, sitting on a chair next to the operating table. Quickly I went to him and kissed him on his cheek. Hello, my dear little girl, he said." How are you, have you ever seen an operating room, ". "No" ,I said. "Do you know what this is? It’s an operating table." "Oh", I said, "it is big". Full of confidence I looked from him to the table. "Would you like to sit on it?", I nodded. He lifted me on it. Just lie down, he said. Yes, why not, I thought. “Look, he said this is a cap they use to cover your face” and so he did. Suddenly I got anguished and frightened, I fought and struggled like crazy, what's this", then I fell in the deep darkness and was gone. When I opened my eyes again, I had the feeling that knifes were in my throat and I started to cry. Nuns came and gave me some ice water, which I refused and kept on crying. In this pure white room with windows at both sides were three beds. My bed was on the inside and I looked out on the big wide corridor. On the other side of the room you looked on to the veranda. We were at the end of the corridor and you could see large wide steps going down to a beautiful garden. In this large corridor several people were lying on couches with small tables next to them and there were big plants everywhere. Of the three of us I was the eldest, I was 6 years old. I was furious and very sad, ate and drank nothing, refusing everything. The nuns were desperate. My parents appeared on the veranda, but were not allowed to come in because of the risk of infection, a real threat in the tropics (penicilline was not yet invented). The only thing I showed them was my angry back. My uncle and the nuns were desperate, whatever they tried, I absolutely didn’t want anything and kept this up.
In the corridor there also was a young and very tall priest, who had come very ill out of the bush, he had severe malaria and was recovering now. He smiled and waved at me sometimes. The nuns told him about my behavior. He said: “let me try”. When I woke up in the morning, again feeling terrible, he stood smiling friendly at my bedside and immediately started to tell me an exciting story, while carefully feeding me juice with ice. As of that day he took care of me for the remainder of my stay. He washed, fed, comforted me and told me stories. The nuns were fine by it and so he became my personal nurse. When I was allowed to walk around after four days, I always sat with him in the corridor. I systematically refused to see or greet my parents, I always turned my back to them.
After 7 days I was allowed to go home, I held on to tables, chairs and doorways, I didn’t want to leave him. After talking to me for hours about his work in the bush and all the dangers and sick people there, I understood that I had to say farewell to my great friend. He gave me a lovely snow white ring, wich fitted me very good, I finally, bathing in tears, said goodbye to my dear friend and caregiver. Sadly, I’ve never seen him again, but I’ve never forgotten him either.
When my daughters were to be operated on their tonsils, I played doctor and nurses with them for hours, telling them what would happen, so they knew and when the moment came, they were ready and fully prepaired for it.
Dinkie
Tuesday, May 12, 2009
donderdag 23 juni 2011
A TERRIBLE DAY
It was mid 1968. At that time we lived in Voorschoten in de Papenlaan, in a lovely house. At the age of 35 I passed for my driving license after 3 trials and made it a habit to take my now ex husband once a week to his work at the Waal harbour or another harbour so I could use the car for the rest of the day, mostly to run errands for the kids or sometimes to take them on a shopping spree. At half past five I drove back to Rotterdam to pick up my ex, there were no traffic jams then. Often one or two of the kids came along, also that day my daughter Arlette and her friend Wilma. Before driving to Rotterdam we went to Wassenaar to do one more errand and I saw a hitchhiker wanting to go to Rotterdam. I said: okay, get in, but you have to be patient because before driving to Rotterdam we first have to do a couple of things. That is no problem Madam, said the nice and very shy young man of about 23 years. For an hour he accompanied us everywhere, also to our house in Voorschoten. He sat sweet and perfectly still and let it all come over him, the loud music, the rush and our running to and fro. Finally we were on our way to Rotterdam. He didn’t want anything to eat or drink, although I offered it several times to him. Just as we came on the highway, bang, a flat tire. The young man immediately lamented that he couldn’t help me, as he didn’t know how to assist, he had nothing with cars. Furthermore he said: I play the piano and I am very careful with my hands. I said: dear boy, don’t worry, I can do anything and we all stepped out of the car. Anyway, mother went to work. In those days I was fashionably dressed, very hip, high-heeled boots. Unfortunately that was not the right clothing for the job, but I succeeded. The tire was replaced. The spectators were clearly relieved. Then I tried getting the hup cap back in place hitting it with my hands, which failed, it fell off again and again. Slightly irritated I sat on my rear end, pulled up one leg and leaned backwards so I could give it a smack with my high heel. At the moment I darted out, the silent young man suddenly put his hand on the wheel cover too keep it in place and got my whole heel in his hand. I screamed, he screamed and the girls screamed. Dancing with pain, he kept his hand in his other hand and walked whimpering around. I screamed: how can you be so stupid, let me see. His hand was getting thicker and swelled up and he was white as a sheet of the pain. I said: we go to the hospital straight away. But he cried: no madam, I want to go home. In Rotterdam sitting silently with his swollen hand across his chest, it was a very sad situation, the poor boy sufferd terribly but insisted that he did not want to go to the hospital. He directed me straight to the street where he lived. Whatever I tried, all he wanted was to go home and lamented about playing the piano. When he got out, he turned around and said: thank you very much for the lift. I said: my dear boy, go to the doctor soon and then he was gone into the street to his house.
Every year this incident comes sometimes suddenly to my mind,I than hope every thing is allright with him, although it was very serious. This is something you will never forget. I hope he is doing well and hope that he can still play the piano.
Dinkie
It was mid 1968. At that time we lived in Voorschoten in de Papenlaan, in a lovely house. At the age of 35 I passed for my driving license after 3 trials and made it a habit to take my now ex husband once a week to his work at the Waal harbour or another harbour so I could use the car for the rest of the day, mostly to run errands for the kids or sometimes to take them on a shopping spree. At half past five I drove back to Rotterdam to pick up my ex, there were no traffic jams then. Often one or two of the kids came along, also that day my daughter Arlette and her friend Wilma. Before driving to Rotterdam we went to Wassenaar to do one more errand and I saw a hitchhiker wanting to go to Rotterdam. I said: okay, get in, but you have to be patient because before driving to Rotterdam we first have to do a couple of things. That is no problem Madam, said the nice and very shy young man of about 23 years. For an hour he accompanied us everywhere, also to our house in Voorschoten. He sat sweet and perfectly still and let it all come over him, the loud music, the rush and our running to and fro. Finally we were on our way to Rotterdam. He didn’t want anything to eat or drink, although I offered it several times to him. Just as we came on the highway, bang, a flat tire. The young man immediately lamented that he couldn’t help me, as he didn’t know how to assist, he had nothing with cars. Furthermore he said: I play the piano and I am very careful with my hands. I said: dear boy, don’t worry, I can do anything and we all stepped out of the car. Anyway, mother went to work. In those days I was fashionably dressed, very hip, high-heeled boots. Unfortunately that was not the right clothing for the job, but I succeeded. The tire was replaced. The spectators were clearly relieved. Then I tried getting the hup cap back in place hitting it with my hands, which failed, it fell off again and again. Slightly irritated I sat on my rear end, pulled up one leg and leaned backwards so I could give it a smack with my high heel. At the moment I darted out, the silent young man suddenly put his hand on the wheel cover too keep it in place and got my whole heel in his hand. I screamed, he screamed and the girls screamed. Dancing with pain, he kept his hand in his other hand and walked whimpering around. I screamed: how can you be so stupid, let me see. His hand was getting thicker and swelled up and he was white as a sheet of the pain. I said: we go to the hospital straight away. But he cried: no madam, I want to go home. In Rotterdam sitting silently with his swollen hand across his chest, it was a very sad situation, the poor boy sufferd terribly but insisted that he did not want to go to the hospital. He directed me straight to the street where he lived. Whatever I tried, all he wanted was to go home and lamented about playing the piano. When he got out, he turned around and said: thank you very much for the lift. I said: my dear boy, go to the doctor soon and then he was gone into the street to his house.
Every year this incident comes sometimes suddenly to my mind,I than hope every thing is allright with him, although it was very serious. This is something you will never forget. I hope he is doing well and hope that he can still play the piano.
Dinkie
dinsdag 21 juni 2011
Elsie My Grandmother Continued
ELSIE (CONTINUED)
After 4 years in a Japanese concentration camp and 63 years old, she arrived in Holland together with us. Everything she had left behind in the care of others was sold or gone and the storehouse she had put her beautiful furniture in was gone, she had lost it all and she had to start all over again. She rented a large apartment with a lot of floorspace in the Minrebroederstraat 11 bis in Utrecht, close to the Cathedral, from four sisters who all lived together on the ground floor. These four not so good looking unmarried sisters always dressed in black, were very fond of my beautifully dressed and nice looking grandmother and watched over her and were chatting all the time, also cleaning here apartment for here.
A lot of families went to Canada, Australia and New Zealand after the war. Her business was booming. Elsie has been a beacon in my life, a beacon of determination, independence and softness. From her I learned that softness was not synonymous for weak, it could also be very strong. She was reading a lot and was always busy spiritually. When I stayed with her for 14 days each summer vacation, it always was a fascinating experience. Her large living room was already beautifully furnished. Behind the large and wide living room was a corridor on which two other doors came out, one was her bedroom which was also large and high and the other was her junk room. Through the corridor around a corner was a small kitchen, which was terribly cold in the winter. Above her were two more floors where students lived, whom she helped with their English. Every morning at 7 o’clock her alarm went off, then she first did a leg massage in bed, then she did gymnastics while singing a song “Every day and in every way I get better and better”. When her son Dennis stayed with her, he always sang “you get fatter and fatter”. After this ritual I helped her in her corset with boning, which was incredibly tight. Then she put on her make-up and thereafter it was time for an extended breakfast with lots of tea. At 10.30 a.m. the first lesson started, sometimes she also taught in the afternoon and in the evenings. Once a week we went to V&D (a department store) at noon for a hot meal, tables were covered with white tablecloths and large white napkins. There was also a waiter present. After lunch we went to the cinema, where she had a fixed place. The rest of the week we went two more times to the cinema and in the evening ate with the students in the University cafeteria. Every Tuesday it was her “jour” (day), everyone could come then and she always had lots of food and drink at home, all that it takes to receive her visitors. Friends, acquaintances and sometimes family always came around and it was a wonderful day full of surprises. When she taught I often went to see the students upstairs to talk to them or read my books on her lovely large bed. Movies were her hobby, she gathered everything about it. She had a two door wardrobe which she used as a filing cabinet. At the end of every movie she got all the publicity leaflets which she later donated to Simon van Collum, the director of the movie museum, who was extremely happy with it.
Later, when I lived in De Bilt for a year with my first child and expecting the second, I went on my bike to see her almost every day. A solid ride with my big belly and Walter in his child seat behind my back. When I arrived all four sisters ran cooing upstairs to warn my grandmother and all of them were waiting at the top of the stairs. My grandmother saying: “Hello my darling, here you are again, what fun, come in quickly”. After little Walter and I got a cuddle from the sisters for a moment, we went quickly inside. At that time my grandmother didn’t teach anymore and she loved it when we came. After spending a few hours with her I cycled back to De Bilt. She also helped me with everything, a cooker, a vacuum cleaner and specially by coming to me by bus and staying the whole day . When later we lived somewhere else, she got cancer and lost one eye, as a replacement they gave her an artificial eye. When she stayed in Moordrecht with me for two weeks,I saw how she every day patiently and bravely took the eye out cleaned it and put it back again. Unfortunately she wasn’t spared much my lovely grandmother, the cancer came back and she moved to The Hague, where she stayed in the house of two man who were living together and took care of some very old lady's, they were very nice for my grandmother, loved her a lot, after a long and very painful, difficult road, she died in hospital at the age of 82, this lovely woman, my grandmother Elsie.
One day coming out of Xenos I saw a woman walking by, although I only could see her back, I had a shock and shouted: “Elsie, Elsie”. The woman turned and I saw that it was somebody else and suddenly everything became dark around me and luckily Willem caught me otherwise I would have fallen. “I think you better sit down”, Willem said. Only then I realized how very much I missed her that sensible little woman, Elsie.
Dinkie
After 4 years in a Japanese concentration camp and 63 years old, she arrived in Holland together with us. Everything she had left behind in the care of others was sold or gone and the storehouse she had put her beautiful furniture in was gone, she had lost it all and she had to start all over again. She rented a large apartment with a lot of floorspace in the Minrebroederstraat 11 bis in Utrecht, close to the Cathedral, from four sisters who all lived together on the ground floor. These four not so good looking unmarried sisters always dressed in black, were very fond of my beautifully dressed and nice looking grandmother and watched over her and were chatting all the time, also cleaning here apartment for here.
A lot of families went to Canada, Australia and New Zealand after the war. Her business was booming. Elsie has been a beacon in my life, a beacon of determination, independence and softness. From her I learned that softness was not synonymous for weak, it could also be very strong. She was reading a lot and was always busy spiritually. When I stayed with her for 14 days each summer vacation, it always was a fascinating experience. Her large living room was already beautifully furnished. Behind the large and wide living room was a corridor on which two other doors came out, one was her bedroom which was also large and high and the other was her junk room. Through the corridor around a corner was a small kitchen, which was terribly cold in the winter. Above her were two more floors where students lived, whom she helped with their English. Every morning at 7 o’clock her alarm went off, then she first did a leg massage in bed, then she did gymnastics while singing a song “Every day and in every way I get better and better”. When her son Dennis stayed with her, he always sang “you get fatter and fatter”. After this ritual I helped her in her corset with boning, which was incredibly tight. Then she put on her make-up and thereafter it was time for an extended breakfast with lots of tea. At 10.30 a.m. the first lesson started, sometimes she also taught in the afternoon and in the evenings. Once a week we went to V&D (a department store) at noon for a hot meal, tables were covered with white tablecloths and large white napkins. There was also a waiter present. After lunch we went to the cinema, where she had a fixed place. The rest of the week we went two more times to the cinema and in the evening ate with the students in the University cafeteria. Every Tuesday it was her “jour” (day), everyone could come then and she always had lots of food and drink at home, all that it takes to receive her visitors. Friends, acquaintances and sometimes family always came around and it was a wonderful day full of surprises. When she taught I often went to see the students upstairs to talk to them or read my books on her lovely large bed. Movies were her hobby, she gathered everything about it. She had a two door wardrobe which she used as a filing cabinet. At the end of every movie she got all the publicity leaflets which she later donated to Simon van Collum, the director of the movie museum, who was extremely happy with it.
Later, when I lived in De Bilt for a year with my first child and expecting the second, I went on my bike to see her almost every day. A solid ride with my big belly and Walter in his child seat behind my back. When I arrived all four sisters ran cooing upstairs to warn my grandmother and all of them were waiting at the top of the stairs. My grandmother saying: “Hello my darling, here you are again, what fun, come in quickly”. After little Walter and I got a cuddle from the sisters for a moment, we went quickly inside. At that time my grandmother didn’t teach anymore and she loved it when we came. After spending a few hours with her I cycled back to De Bilt. She also helped me with everything, a cooker, a vacuum cleaner and specially by coming to me by bus and staying the whole day . When later we lived somewhere else, she got cancer and lost one eye, as a replacement they gave her an artificial eye. When she stayed in Moordrecht with me for two weeks,I saw how she every day patiently and bravely took the eye out cleaned it and put it back again. Unfortunately she wasn’t spared much my lovely grandmother, the cancer came back and she moved to The Hague, where she stayed in the house of two man who were living together and took care of some very old lady's, they were very nice for my grandmother, loved her a lot, after a long and very painful, difficult road, she died in hospital at the age of 82, this lovely woman, my grandmother Elsie.
One day coming out of Xenos I saw a woman walking by, although I only could see her back, I had a shock and shouted: “Elsie, Elsie”. The woman turned and I saw that it was somebody else and suddenly everything became dark around me and luckily Willem caught me otherwise I would have fallen. “I think you better sit down”, Willem said. Only then I realized how very much I missed her that sensible little woman, Elsie.
Dinkie
Elsie My Dear Grandmother.
ELSIE, MY GRANDMOTHER
Elsie Maud Cownie, my dearest grandmother.
With a small group she got off the boat. In amazement she looked around her, she was in Holland where she cheerfully was going to visit all the special places. She liked everything.
She was a decent, demure girl of just 20 years, whose father was a music teacher at the University of Edinburgh. She came from a wonderful family, who had their own ships, a very kind family with a heartwarming and sweet character.
Cheerful and happy the group visited all museums and concerts and many other things. It was an educational tour for the group from Scotland.
She, Elsie, decided to stay a bit longer with friends, she already knew in Holland, so she could take some painting lessons at the “Haagse School”. We still have a couple of her paintings hanging on our wall. She is even mentioned in the library of the "Haagse School," as a good painter.
Perhaps unfortunately she then met a tough smooth Dutch guy, a bon vivant. Dancing, dining out and concerts, followed and before she knew it, this sweet well bread gentle girl fell in love and later got engaged and married her tough bon vivant. A happy time followed, a life of a well to do family in The Hague. Elsie’s husband, Herbert, had a very big shop in the Lange Houtstraat in The Hague. He sold furniture, curtain fabrics and much more from Bas van Pelt. The only thing Herbert couldn’t handle was the enormous prudishness of his wife. Then Gwen was born (my mother) and two years later Dennis. When Gwen was 7 years, Elsie was diagnosed with a highly contagious form of TB. She had to go to a sanatorium immediately. Little Gwen was sent to a boarding school in Vught with the nuns and Dennis went to his grandparents. And so a happy family was torn apart. Two years later Elsie came home again, fully recovered. Herbert, now a rich man, had not been idle. He lived the life of a real bon vivant with dignity, hunting, sailing, riding and partying. Elsie after all she had been through didn’t fit in this kind of life anymore. Elsie wanted a divorce, wich she got, she did not want any money from Herbert and took a job as companion lady. Before her train left, Herbert said: “Elsie, are you really sure you want to do this?” “Yes, Herbert absolutely” Elsie responded. And so Elsie left, yet they remained close friends until the end of their lives. She went to work as a companion to a rich English lady in The Netherlands. Years later after an other failed second marriage, she started here own job by giving English lessons to the dutch people who emigrated. Later she rented an apartment on the first floor nearby the Lange Houtstraat and started giving English lessons to business people, emigrants and children. That she has done for the rest of her life, it gave her a good income. When she received an inheritance from her father, she went to my mother in Indonesia. Also her son, Dennis went to Indonesia with his wife Beppie Rietveld, the daughter of the famous Rietveld. And they all ended up in Japanese concentration camps.
Will be continued. Dinkie
THE STORY OF ELSIE, A VERY SWEET GRANDMOTHER
Elsie Maud Cownie, my dearest grandmother.
With a small group she got off the boat. In amazement she looked around her, she was in Holland where she cheerfully was going to visit all the special places. She liked everything.
She was a decent, demure girl of just 20 years, whose father was a music teacher at the University of Edinburgh. She came from a wonderful family, who had their own ships, a very kind family with a heartwarming and sweet character.
Cheerful and happy the group visited all museums and concerts and many other things. It was an educational tour for the group from Scotland.
She, Elsie, decided to stay a bit longer with friends, she already knew in Holland, so she could take some painting lessons at the “Haagse School”. We still have a couple of her paintings hanging on our wall. She is even mentioned in the library of the "Haagse School," as a good painter.
Perhaps unfortunately she then met a tough smooth Dutch guy, a bon vivant. Dancing, dining out and concerts, followed and before she knew it, this sweet well bread gentle girl fell in love and later got engaged and married her tough bon vivant. A happy time followed, a life of a well to do family in The Hague. Elsie’s husband, Herbert, had a very big shop in the Lange Houtstraat in The Hague. He sold furniture, curtain fabrics and much more from Bas van Pelt. The only thing Herbert couldn’t handle was the enormous prudishness of his wife. Then Gwen was born (my mother) and two years later Dennis. When Gwen was 7 years, Elsie was diagnosed with a highly contagious form of TB. She had to go to a sanatorium immediately. Little Gwen was sent to a boarding school in Vught with the nuns and Dennis went to his grandparents. And so a happy family was torn apart. Two years later Elsie came home again, fully recovered. Herbert, now a rich man, had not been idle. He lived the life of a real bon vivant with dignity, hunting, sailing, riding and partying. Elsie after all she had been through didn’t fit in this kind of life anymore. Elsie wanted a divorce, wich she got, she did not want any money from Herbert and took a job as companion lady. Before her train left, Herbert said: “Elsie, are you really sure you want to do this?” “Yes, Herbert absolutely” Elsie responded. And so Elsie left, yet they remained close friends until the end of their lives. She went to work as a companion to a rich English lady in The Netherlands. Years later after an other failed second marriage, she started here own job by giving English lessons to the dutch people who emigrated. Later she rented an apartment on the first floor nearby the Lange Houtstraat and started giving English lessons to business people, emigrants and children. That she has done for the rest of her life, it gave her a good income. When she received an inheritance from her father, she went to my mother in Indonesia. Also her son, Dennis went to Indonesia with his wife Beppie Rietveld, the daughter of the famous Rietveld. And they all ended up in Japanese concentration camps.
Will be continued. Dinkie
THE STORY OF ELSIE, A VERY SWEET GRANDMOTHER
AN ACCIDENT IN FEBRUARY 1975
After a serious accident to my right eye I lay flat in the Eye hospital Leyenburg in The Hague. I was not allowed to move, not even to go to the bathroom, everything had to be done lying down, until it was safe and not dangerous anymore. After five days I was finally allowed to sit in bed and the 6th day they took me to the X-ray department in a wheelchair. They wanted to make an x-ray of my eye socket to see whether it was broken. When arriving at the X-ray department there was a man who looked a little bit strange, like someone artificial, but with radiant bright blue eyes and a very friendly smile.
Scared and nervous I was waiting what would happen if it was broken, I didn’t know. “So”, the man with the beautiful blue eyes said “are you a bit nervous”. “Don’t be it is just an x-ray”. “Yes, I know, but what if my eye socket is broken?” “Are worrying about that, that is nothing, they can fix it”. Curiously I asked him, why are you here? Well. my child, I have fallen down from the 20th floor, a screen first protected me a bit, then I fell into the bushes. In a large bucket they took me to the hospital. I had almost broken everything one can break. I’ve been in various hospitals for the past five years and had up to 15 surgeries and you see, I am still here and almost all my limbs are plastic.
Stunned, I said: but you are still good looking." "That is the nicest compliment I’ve had in 5 years, thank you my dear".
The ice was broken then and during our long wait we drank coffee and talked and laughed about all his new limbs. This is an event you will never forget and luckily my eye socket wasn’t broken and after seven days I went home to my kids, cheerfully. Times when I feel down I think of him and it always helps
Dinkie
MIRACLES EXIST – THE SECOND MIRACLE (herhaling september 2007
After a serious accident to my right eye I lay flat in the Eye hospital Leyenburg in The Hague. I was not allowed to move, not even to go to the bathroom, everything had to be done lying down, until it was safe and not dangerous anymore. After five days I was finally allowed to sit in bed and the 6th day they took me to the X-ray department in a wheelchair. They wanted to make an x-ray of my eye socket to see whether it was broken. When arriving at the X-ray department there was a man who looked a little bit strange, like someone artificial, but with radiant bright blue eyes and a very friendly smile.
Scared and nervous I was waiting what would happen if it was broken, I didn’t know. “So”, the man with the beautiful blue eyes said “are you a bit nervous”. “Don’t be it is just an x-ray”. “Yes, I know, but what if my eye socket is broken?” “Are worrying about that, that is nothing, they can fix it”. Curiously I asked him, why are you here? Well. my child, I have fallen down from the 20th floor, a screen first protected me a bit, then I fell into the bushes. In a large bucket they took me to the hospital. I had almost broken everything one can break. I’ve been in various hospitals for the past five years and had up to 15 surgeries and you see, I am still here and almost all my limbs are plastic.
Stunned, I said: but you are still good looking." "That is the nicest compliment I’ve had in 5 years, thank you my dear".
The ice was broken then and during our long wait we drank coffee and talked and laughed about all his new limbs. This is an event you will never forget and luckily my eye socket wasn’t broken and after seven days I went home to my kids, cheerfully. Times when I feel down I think of him and it always helps
Dinkie
MIRACLES EXIST – THE SECOND MIRACLE (herhaling september 2007
THE LIFE OF ONE OF MY GIRLFRIENDS
Standing on the tracks she looked into the distance. A soft breeze touched her face. Here at this lonely spot, it happened. Here her dear father in a desperate mood had thrown himself in front of the train. Five years after their mother’s death, he had chosen to do it. He was a pastor from a small village, who despite his 5 children, no longer could handle life in his unhappy second marriage.
She sighed and looked around sadly, everything looked so peaceful. After a silent farewell and a prayer she walked back to the house of her girlfriend with whom she was staying for a couple of days. It was years ago that she had lived here in the North. Now as a mother with four grown up children, she was proud and happy that she had come so far. She now had the time to leave the dead in peace and to fill in the last part of her own life. She didn’t want to think about her terrible youth anymore with a stepmother who had ruled over them very harsh, being a deeply disappointed and hateful woman.
As a nurse in training she had fled and had built a new life in the West of Holland. No path of roses, but at least her own path. After several years of hard work, she had married the son of the family with whom she had rented a room. The son sailed on ocean-going tankers and sometimes was 1½ years from home. Every time he was home though, all hell broke loose and she was pregnant again. Then he suddenly decided to stop sailing and work as a port pilot in Rotterdam. Her life and that of her children became a genuine permanent threat then. As good and as bad as it was, she managed to put things straight every time it got out of hand, hoping to keep peace in the house. But when she failed in his eyes wich was consistently, hell broke loose. After 20 years it was enough. She got the house with a life insurance and he kept the rest. Very sad days came and went, she had jobs that were heavy and uncomfortable. Eventually she was declared unfit due to serious physical problems and so she got a little rest. When years later she received a considerable amount of money, paid by her insurance, she could begin her recovery and start to live according to her own views.
She travelled throughout Europe on her own. Everywhere she went she visited museums, also in Holland. She went to Lapland, New Zealand, Vietnam and all Eastern European countries. She lived very frugal, had no car and spent little money on luxury, but she travelled around the globe, broke her leg in England, all on her own.
She now could, looking back on that poor start, enjoy all the happiness she has now, well-developed children, lovely grandchildren and a life filled with many interests. I’ve known her for 52 years, we were living next to each other for some years and were both married with an husband at sea, so very long time alone with little children, we helped each other as much as we could and also had a very nice time those years together, having baby's and taking care of them together, when each of us moved to another place we still kept in touch over all the years and we still do, sometimes much, sometimes less, but we never forget each other. When one of us was in very bad shape we would phone and help each other until now, so our friendship has never ended. Dinkie.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
Standing on the tracks she looked into the distance. A soft breeze touched her face. Here at this lonely spot, it happened. Here her dear father in a desperate mood had thrown himself in front of the train. Five years after their mother’s death, he had chosen to do it. He was a pastor from a small village, who despite his 5 children, no longer could handle life in his unhappy second marriage.
She sighed and looked around sadly, everything looked so peaceful. After a silent farewell and a prayer she walked back to the house of her girlfriend with whom she was staying for a couple of days. It was years ago that she had lived here in the North. Now as a mother with four grown up children, she was proud and happy that she had come so far. She now had the time to leave the dead in peace and to fill in the last part of her own life. She didn’t want to think about her terrible youth anymore with a stepmother who had ruled over them very harsh, being a deeply disappointed and hateful woman.
As a nurse in training she had fled and had built a new life in the West of Holland. No path of roses, but at least her own path. After several years of hard work, she had married the son of the family with whom she had rented a room. The son sailed on ocean-going tankers and sometimes was 1½ years from home. Every time he was home though, all hell broke loose and she was pregnant again. Then he suddenly decided to stop sailing and work as a port pilot in Rotterdam. Her life and that of her children became a genuine permanent threat then. As good and as bad as it was, she managed to put things straight every time it got out of hand, hoping to keep peace in the house. But when she failed in his eyes wich was consistently, hell broke loose. After 20 years it was enough. She got the house with a life insurance and he kept the rest. Very sad days came and went, she had jobs that were heavy and uncomfortable. Eventually she was declared unfit due to serious physical problems and so she got a little rest. When years later she received a considerable amount of money, paid by her insurance, she could begin her recovery and start to live according to her own views.
She travelled throughout Europe on her own. Everywhere she went she visited museums, also in Holland. She went to Lapland, New Zealand, Vietnam and all Eastern European countries. She lived very frugal, had no car and spent little money on luxury, but she travelled around the globe, broke her leg in England, all on her own.
She now could, looking back on that poor start, enjoy all the happiness she has now, well-developed children, lovely grandchildren and a life filled with many interests. I’ve known her for 52 years, we were living next to each other for some years and were both married with an husband at sea, so very long time alone with little children, we helped each other as much as we could and also had a very nice time those years together, having baby's and taking care of them together, when each of us moved to another place we still kept in touch over all the years and we still do, sometimes much, sometimes less, but we never forget each other. When one of us was in very bad shape we would phone and help each other until now, so our friendship has never ended. Dinkie.
Thursday, February 4, 2010
MY LAST NEW KNEE, APRIL 23 IN ASSEN
On April 23 of this year I got my last new knee. How wonderful that one has but two knees. As a 75 year old it wasn’t easy, but with two new knees and a one hip replacement, I think I’ve had about everything. But yes, you think there is one more hip, but that one is all right and will hopefully stay that way.
So I haven’t written a lot of stories recently and that even after an extended article in the PZC about me with picture, my husband and dog. But I can now happily get to work once again to write stories about my life including both amazing and unpleasant memories, these last ones luckily didn’t ever haunt me.
Dinkie
CILACAP 1982 – AN ACCIDENT
In Indonesia people absolutely don’t adhere to the rules, let alone keep fixed arrangements, with a few exceptions maybe. So it is dangerous to trust someone who has your life in his hands. When you do, the following can happen to you. We unfortunately had to experience it. Imagine, suddenly there was a power failure in the part of Cilacap where we lived on the Gotot Soebroto 75. All was off during the morning, the air conditioning, the refrigerator and the freezer. Full of confidence a bus of the electricity company went to the power station and turned off the switches of the appropriate section. Then the bus drove to the electricity poles, along the main road under which we daily drove to or from the village, the school and the swimming pool. One of the men, using a ladder first, climbed in one of the electricity poles and went higher and higher. We saw him climbing up and thought that you definitely should have no fear of heights to do this job. The man in question had reached the right power cord, high in the air, crawled on the cord, hooked himself and sat down to work. What he did exactly, we didn’t know, but he sat quietly on the cord, just like an ape.
This was Indonesia though, as I mentioned before. A huge bang, yelling and screaming as if he was roasted on a spit, he suddenly hang under the cord, but didn’t fell off. To our bewilderment he was dead, stone-dead. Someone at the power station had passed the electricity cabinet, knew about the power failure and decided to turn on the switches to start the power again, not knowing that someone on the road was repairing a power cord. The cabinet stood open and the switch was turned down, that was what he noted.
Afterwards of course no one had done it and no one dared to do something, everyone was frozen with fright and so the poor dead man was hanging there for three long days. All the people from Cilacap who had to go to the village, school or swimming pool had to drive on the road with him hanging above it. None of the children and parents will ever forget that image. To our relief they finally took him down one night and he was buried with a lot of music.
Dinkie
On April 23 of this year I got my last new knee. How wonderful that one has but two knees. As a 75 year old it wasn’t easy, but with two new knees and a one hip replacement, I think I’ve had about everything. But yes, you think there is one more hip, but that one is all right and will hopefully stay that way.
So I haven’t written a lot of stories recently and that even after an extended article in the PZC about me with picture, my husband and dog. But I can now happily get to work once again to write stories about my life including both amazing and unpleasant memories, these last ones luckily didn’t ever haunt me.
Dinkie
CILACAP 1982 – AN ACCIDENT
In Indonesia people absolutely don’t adhere to the rules, let alone keep fixed arrangements, with a few exceptions maybe. So it is dangerous to trust someone who has your life in his hands. When you do, the following can happen to you. We unfortunately had to experience it. Imagine, suddenly there was a power failure in the part of Cilacap where we lived on the Gotot Soebroto 75. All was off during the morning, the air conditioning, the refrigerator and the freezer. Full of confidence a bus of the electricity company went to the power station and turned off the switches of the appropriate section. Then the bus drove to the electricity poles, along the main road under which we daily drove to or from the village, the school and the swimming pool. One of the men, using a ladder first, climbed in one of the electricity poles and went higher and higher. We saw him climbing up and thought that you definitely should have no fear of heights to do this job. The man in question had reached the right power cord, high in the air, crawled on the cord, hooked himself and sat down to work. What he did exactly, we didn’t know, but he sat quietly on the cord, just like an ape.
This was Indonesia though, as I mentioned before. A huge bang, yelling and screaming as if he was roasted on a spit, he suddenly hang under the cord, but didn’t fell off. To our bewilderment he was dead, stone-dead. Someone at the power station had passed the electricity cabinet, knew about the power failure and decided to turn on the switches to start the power again, not knowing that someone on the road was repairing a power cord. The cabinet stood open and the switch was turned down, that was what he noted.
Afterwards of course no one had done it and no one dared to do something, everyone was frozen with fright and so the poor dead man was hanging there for three long days. All the people from Cilacap who had to go to the village, school or swimming pool had to drive on the road with him hanging above it. None of the children and parents will ever forget that image. To our relief they finally took him down one night and he was buried with a lot of music.
Dinkie
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