Last night, I went to the wedding reception of a coworker. He’s Dutch and she’s Brazilian so they had a very lively reception. Complete with three showgirls, an MC and a limbo contest. Picture if you will: a room full of tall Dutch people trying to do the Brazilian version of the electric slide crossed with the mambo. Oh, yes, I was taking part as well. I have strengths, coordination with dance moves are not one of them. But it didn’t stop me from blundering around the dance floor, trying to follow along and avoid the less coordinated people nearby. Yes, there were even less coordinated people than me.

All in all, it was a very nice evening. I am glad I went because as I have learned, if someone invites you to something in the Netherlands, they have thought about it and it should be taken seriously. It was in the tiny village of Echteld. I stayed overnight at the inn that has been there since 17 something. Fell asleep in a tiny room under the eaves with the windows open and woke up to rain pouring in. And after a nice breakfast, it was back to Amsterdam and off to work.

In sharp contrast to the lovely weather yesterday, it has been raining all day. Riding to my banjo lesson required raingear. I changed it to today because tomorrow is the funeral for Marianne’s father. I hope that tomorrow goes as well as it can for the family. At any rate, I will be there to lend all the support I can.

Tonight will be the Brazil-Germany match at 10pm. I will be watching it from the couch with the boys. Henry is not that into it but George really likes to watch the matches because he bets his allowance on matches. He’s hoping to win enough to go on an Agility Camp for small mixed breed dogs for two weeks – complete with all you can eat meal service and campfire songs.

The gardens of Frankendael are lovely. However, I know that my mom would have been wandering through them and been unable to resist the urge to trim back some of the topiary and rearrange a few pots. At a minimum!

After a very warm and sunny afternoon, it became quite cloudy and we went back and forth between the appetizer, main course and dessert between the terrace and the restaurant and back out again. For dessert, we were smart and made our way under an umbrella. Which proved very handy since it began to rain for the third time.

At approximately 11pm, suddenly fireworks went off in the neighborhood around the park. They weren’t from me. I think everyone at the table got goose bumps. Given that the fireworks in Seattle used to start about that time, I felt like Mom was nearby.

Just before midnight, we went out front to the drive where the carriages used to come up. We lit the sparklers in memory of Marianne’s father who has just passed, my mom, Sjoerd and Joanne’s father, Marieke’s mother and for our omas and opas who have gone before us. I have to say it was that it was a very peaceful and celebratory moment. It was the perfect way to end the evening.

I am still somewhat verklemmt today. That’s just such a great word. Someone told me that the more you love someone, the greater the grief. Like there’s a nice mathematical equation. I think that’s true. Underneath the grief and the loss is tremendous love for that person and also from that person. And sometimes that is really hard to find and hold on to, especially in the beginning. But it is there and when we can make room for it again, it reappears as if it had never been missing. That is something I am trying to work through now, to recognize and honor how much my mom loved me and I her. To feel it. And it’s coming, one sparkler at a time. I wish that for everyone.

To my mom. As you might remember, the 4th of July was her chosen birthday. She would have been 74 this year on 07/04. And while I don’t the fireworks over Lake Union to share with her, I did find some sparklers and we’ll be setting them off tonight. Hopefully, in front of the fountain at Frankendael but that depends a lot on how flexible they are and if I am willing to do something first and apologize afterwards. I did get the biggest sparklers allowed.

I remember the first 4th of July that my mom and I shared in Seattle. It was the day she arrived from suburban Washington DC. Ninja, our Akita, had come in as checked baggage and so had Marky, our last bunny of that time. Ninja had the XXX Large kennel, which I don’t think they make anymore. It took 4 baggage handlers to push him out the claiming area door. I wasn’t working on the ramp yet then, I was still working customer service and lost luggage of all places. We were so relieved that the pets arrived okay and even more so that my mom had. For us, it really was a whole turning point. I had left Washington DC a year earlier. I know that the Pacific Northwest gave my mom a chance to heal and do her own thing rather worry about conforming – which she was never very good at anyway!

I have been here now 8 months. I still grieve. Coming here has helped me tremendously. In part to have the memories of my mom as she was in all her feisty self come to the front instead of the memories of when she was sick. Hearing the people use the expressions that she used, learning to stop for a small coffee instead of using a drive through or taking it to go, riding the bike, talking to anyone who will listen, eating Indonesian food, talking to her at Marum – all of these things have helped me make it through the images I never thought I would get out of my head.

I miss her and the grief is still right there. It is not a coincidence that I am crying as I type. But I think my mom would have been amazed that I could be making progress towards just being in the moment. Of course, she wouldn’t remark on it – that wouldn’t be her way. She would just tell me that I was getting old and turning into some kind of cranky old lady. I miss that too, her wicked willingness to say the most unacceptable things. And her love of getting me in trouble while she portrayed the innocent senior citizen.

Tonight I will celebrate her again. And break some rules in her honor. Right now, I am going to do something else my mom always advocated for – even while she was complaining about being a dog’s body. I am going to take a nap on the sofa with the dogs.

One last thing. We never have people in our lives long enough. I don’t think that is ever a right time for someone to pass away. What I do is that what is most important is that they know they were loved, over and over again. And that they have the freedom to go in peace, with their dignity, surrounded by the love people have for them. That’s something I hope for everyone.