Sunshine & rain

I just wanted to write for a little bit. Writing has always helped me in many ways. I don't look at the quality of my blogs but I look at myself, to see if I'm satisfied with what I wrote. Mostly I just write them & post them, I don't even look at any mistakes and don't read them again afterwards. Anyway, if you feel really happy: be warned. This is not a happy blog, it's gonna be about the loss of my grandmother. About how she was my sunshine and how that has dissapeared but how I believe that the memories of her will chase dark clouds away on my saddest days. If you don't feel like getting personal, click this blog away & do it fast.

My grandmother was an honest woman, an opinionated woman, and some people blamed her for that. I never did, because I believe that you should have your own opinion. We have voices for a reason, you know. And to be honest, she hardly ever hurt anyone with it. And if she did, she didn't always realize it because she lived in her own world. I'd like to believe she created that world when she was young. My grandmother was a special human being. She was special in so many ways. I wrote a blog a while ago, about how I wish that you knew my grandparents. My mom's parents are both still alive and now my dad's father is left alone, because my dad's mother passed away on october 15th. All of my grandparents are special people. They have huge hearts, which fills my heart.

My grandmother had been sick for a while, she was in the hospital for about 19 weeks. And in between those 19 weeks, she spend another 4 weeks at a revalidation center, but had to return to the hospital. And then in september, she went somewhere else because the hospital couldn't help her anymore. She was never gonna get better, and we all knew. It was hard because my grandfather didn't accept it. Until the wednesday before grandma died, grandpa thought she was gonna get home. We told him plenty of times she was never gonna be able to go home. We knew, deep in our hearts, she wasn't even gonna live til christmas. Little did I know she wasn't even gonna make it til my birthday.

She loved hard, she fought hard and it hurt me to see her in so much pain. She didn't complain once in the last 6 months. Did I mention she was 85? She always worked hard and always took care of everyone. If you needed a potato, you could knock on her door. If you needed 5 euros, you could knock on her door. If you needed a coffeemachine, she'd have 10 laying around, just in case. You can notice how that behaviour made her so strong. She wasn't gonna let go, not now. But she had to. She always carried on, this time it was different because she wasn't allowed to carry on. She was a wife, a mother, a grandmother & a greatgrandmother. She loved all of us dearly but she was gonna become a greatgrandmother again in December. How she would have loved to meet her 4th greatgrandchild.

I can't tell you how I feel because I feel so empty yet in so much pain. It literally hurts my heart that we have to miss her. It hurts my heart that my grandfather has to carry on alone. It hurts me that she was in so much pain. Her cremation was last friday and it was as beautiful as a goodbye gets. I spoke on the cremation and I'm gonna end this blog with a few of those words.

It hurts me that when you opened your eyes, you didn't look at me but you looked through me. It hurt me that you couldn't say what you wanted and felt because if there was one thing you were known for, it was for the fact that you always said what you felt & thought. I'm talking about my pain, but the pain you felt was indescribable and you carried on as well. On january 1st, a few years ago, I told you that I loved you. Tears filled your eyes. And dear grandma, I never stopped loving you.
My sun went down on october 15th, 2015. But she will rise again, every day, deep inside my heart.

In ons midden

Het is waar. Hoeveel pijn het ook doet, hoeveel tranen het ook opwekt, het is waar. "U mag nu egoïstisch zijn, u  heeft altijd voor anderen gezorgd en nu mag u aan uzelf denken", het is waar. Ze heeft haar hele leven gestreden en gevochten voor haar gezin, met als resultaat dat het nu allemaal mooie, respectvolle, begripvolle mensen met een mooi gezin zijn. En als iemand zo hard strijdt voor een ander, verdient diegene het om eens egoïstisch te zijn. De gevolgen die het gaat hebben zijn groot maar dat is niets vergeleken bij de strijd die gestreden werd, of moet ik zeggen, die gestreden is. Het maakt nu niets meer uit, het is niet er op of er onder. Het is er onder, en daarmee is alles gezegd. Het is ook niet alsof ik het niet wist, het is dat ik het ontkende voor mezelf. Als je iemand die zo veel voor je betekent zo voor je ogen weg ziet glijden doet dat pijn. Meer pijn dan elke pijn die ik ooit heb ervaren. En ik voel me machteloos, machteloos want ik kan niets anders dan er zijn wanneer ik kan. Ik kan niets anders dan haar een kus geven en meepraten als ze me aankijkt met haar ogen, die lang niet meer zo ondeugend zijn als vroeger. Haar ogen zijn levenloos, zelfs als ze zich met tranen vullen zijn ze leeg. Maar haar hart is dat niet, dat zit vol met liefde. Zelfs in deze tijd wilt ze voor ons doorgaan, voor ons pijn lijden, er voor ons zijn. Ze wilde ons troosten met het verlies van haar. Hoe geweldig moet een mens zijn om zo iets te doen? Ik zou ervoor vechten, ervoor door het vuur gaan om haar in ons midden te houden. Dat is waar ze altijd is geweest en dat is waar ze het liefste is. En dat is ook waar ik het liefste ben, altijd ergens met haar in ons midden.