Remembering

So there we were again. Not to bury this time, but to remember. After the kids came home from school and we finished our tea, we went to the cemetery and walked to her grave again. With a fake-birthday cake made of stone, just as one of our children had proposed. And a babypink candle in the shape of a 1. The cake was actually a thrift-box so we used the slot for a candle stand. We lightened the candle and all of us hold a sparkler while I read the poem I wrote earlier that day out loud:

A year ago she was born
we didn’t hear her voice

Today we remember her life so short
Mostly hidden from our sight

We are glad that she existed
Grateful for what God did in our hearts

Her life was not in vain
She means something for us and for God

Amanda: wanted and loved
switched earth for heaven

She went before us,
she is where she has to be
and when we die later,
she too will welcome us.

One of children cried. Another started to throw around some stones. And then another came with arms full of daffodils and cried out proudly: ‘Look mum! These still have their roots!’ hoping that these would last while planting them on Amanda’s grave. Scoop and rake where brought along and two of our children started fervently digging and planting. My Swedish friend told me that in Swedish daffodils were called ‘Easter lilies’ so daffodils are now also related to Amanda as her name is fully Susan Amanda and Susan means ‘lily’.

After everyone did what her or she wanted to do, we walked back to our car and went to a restaurant. To celebrate the day of birth of our third daughter. Without her being present. Very strange. But also very good to do. And also very strange.

Tomorrow it will be a year ago that she was buried: the closing of a very intense week of welcoming and saying goodbye and after that the deep hole. Literally and as a matter of speaking. ‘We are still combing the beach’, my Love said while making a long walk on her birthday, a year after. And that’s it, all though I’ve found out that faith, hope and love, will be there always, even thought we don’t feel that all the time.

These words in my poem: ‘and when we die later, she too will welcome us’, I really mean them. I always looked forward to meeting Jesus, my savior who is risen from the dead. But now there is an extra dimension to that. We will see each other again. It took a while before I was convinced of that. The weeks after her death I was so confused. But now I am sure of it. Death does not have the final word. Remembering is more than looking back to how things were. I am also looking ahead. To what is to come.

First published in Dutch on March 26, 2018

grafje 22 maart 2018.JPG

Author: Ineke

Ik ben Ineke, echtgenote, moeder van vijf, muzikant, schrijfster, vertaalster. 20 maart 2017 markeert een nieuwe fase in ons leven, toen bleek dat Amanda, onze nog ongeboren dochter, overleden bleek te zijn. Al lang wilde ik publiekelijk schrijven over de dingen die ik meemaak en leer, omdat ik merk dat anderen er wat mee kunnen en ik graag mijn gedachten en gevoelens met anderen deel. Sinds we Amanda verloren, is die wens sterker geworden. Haar dood heeft ons leven ingrijpend veranderd en maakt dat ik vaak zoek naar woorden en ook naar wat ik nu werkelijk voel, denk, geloof. In mijn blogs wil ik die woorden proberen te vinden.

One thought on “Remembering”

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s