December 17, 2024
Today is my husband Wim’s birthday. And today I am writing this in a Toronto airport lounge, awaiting my flight to Amsterdam, The Netherlands. I am going to my home country to help care and make future plans for my mother, who, for my sister and I quite unexpectedly, has received a dementia diagnosis. I hope to make this a trip of joyful new memories and lots of laughter. But I am sure there will be tears as well. My sister and I are the only ones left from our little family unit and being there during the holidays and quite a few weeks after that, is also an opportunity to support and bring light to each other…
Talking about tears and loved ones, let’s go back to Wim’s birthday… He has quite a slew of little presents waiting for him at home. Packed, of course, to keep things exciting and interesting and I hope this will help with the loneliness he will be sure to feel during my absence. (But maybe he will enjoy the quiet as well, wink, wink…)
The month-long strike of Canada Post has seriously influenced the festivities though… there is a big box with goodies stuck in this same airport where I am sitting right now. And I can only hope it will soon find its way to our house! I cannot wait to hear Wim’s reactions to its contents. Of which I cannot speak here, of course…
To make sure that even today he felt at least a little bit like the birthday boy, a day where we had to say goodbye to each other for at least 8 weeks (we have never been apart for that long since we met in 2006!), I gave him a painting of our cat Suzi. She passed unexpectedly earlier this year. Thinking of her can still bring tears to the both of us. But having an image true to who she was, is helpful in the process of mourning. I found that out when my beloved cat Dixie died, in 2018. I created her portrait while my cheeks were wet the whole time. But seeing her on the wall of our house really is a big comfort.
So, below you see the portrait I created for Wim. I stuck to merry colors, because I sincerely believe that the most important memory of those who pass should be happy moments. And happiness is what Suzi found with us. Just 6 years unfortunately. But at least we got her out of a very nasty hoarding situation that made her into the most skittish and anxious cat I have ever owned. Petting her, in the beginning, led to fierce physical shocks through her body; fear made her drool extensively. But gradually our love for her made her build trust towards humans. Mostly towards us, and, to be fair: predominantly towards Wim. I always joked that I was really the second woman in this marriage. Wim and Suzi were husband and wife and there was nothing that could come between them. Until that fateful day, on February 29, 2024, a mere 14 days before our umpteenth house move, when she suddenly got violently ill. Her insides were riddled with cancer; and when we found that out during exploratory surgery, we decided to spare her further suffering and let her go.

Another piece of my heart and a big chunk out of Wim’s soul. But it cannot be helped. We all know that, when we adopt a pet, we will most probably survive them. That makes rescuer and adopters into courageous heroes. It may sound weird to say that about ourselves. And sometimes, when death knocks at the door, we do not feel courageous at all. But there you have it. Meet Suzi. Above the birthday painting, below a painting I did of her quite a while ago.

Happy birthday, sweet hubby of mine, and thank you for loving Suzi right into a heaven on earth that she never knew in her early years… May my painting bring you comfort and joy! Love you heaps!
I the meanwhile you will be in the Netherlands
Ik ben nu bezig een Bob Ross uitje te verzorgen
Van de weeromstuit begon ik in het Engels te antwoorden
Hoop dat we elkaar de korte komende periode hier in Nederland toch even kunnenn treffen. Wens je alvast een fijne tijd hier
We gaan dat zeker proberen. Hope to see you soon and in the meantime: happy holidays to you and all your loved ones,Reginald!