Bompa

My sister Ruthie asked me when the heck I was going to update my blog again, since it’s been pointing you towards the www.postsecret website for seemingly ever. 

I explained to her my mental block here.  Our grandfather, “Bompa”, passed away at 1 am on Thursday, October 13th 2005.   I wanted to write about him, about the experience of being in Belgium last week, but then somehow I couldn’t really.  And then it didn’t seem appropriate to write about anything else, and I just couldn’t get over this hurdle.  I didn’t know how to write about how I felt without it sounding strange published on the internet, but I couldn’t bring myself to write about any other topic.  Ruthie shook me out of it, by saying I should write about Bompa, but then move on, which is simple enough really.  So I will.

When Bompa was rushed to the hospital (a few days before he died) the whole family was on high alert, and Bompa was under constant watch by his children and grand children.  I had to go to Vienna for work, as you all know (and saw for about ten days on my last post!) but was thinking about him.  By the time I had landed in Schiphol/Amsterdam airport Wednesday evening, the situation had become critical.  I came home to drop off my suitcases, rebook my flight to New York City (I had been planning to visit Anuj starting the next morning) and repacked my bags with my mom.  One of the reasons I was so excited to move to Amsterdam was because I knew I would be closer to family.  Delaying my trip to New York City, no matter how badly I wanted to see Anuj, was not even a question.   We drove down to Antwerp the next morning; but when my uncle picked us up we found we are already “too late”.   

Well, we were “too late” I suppose, in the sense that I didn’t get to kiss Bompa goodbye during his final hours.  But we weren’t too late to be with family, and to help arrange the funeral, and to comfort my grandmother, and to go through real grieving  myself.  This was my first experience with losing someone close to me and it was strange to be a part of a grieving,.. well, community (my family).  I went to the hospital with my aunts and uncles, and my parents, to see my grandfather.   I can only describe this experience as being extremely intense.  I kept expecting to see his chest rise and fall with breath, but it didn’t of course.  He was so utterly without life, and yet so familiar to me!  What really got me were his hands – they still had dirt underneath his finger nails, just like he always has had, as long as I can ever remember.  Being in the room with him I was able to actually really say goodbye, and I was grateful for that. 

At my aunt’s house, people were walking around with watery eyes and runny red noses.  Coffee and bread magically appeared and talk turned to the funeral, but also to stories of Bompa when he ran his laundromat, how he raised his children, lots of laughing at old stories, and then sprays of tears when moments were remembered.  Mourning is so strange isn’t it?  Lots of crying, but also lots of laughing.  Bompa would have turned 93 in November, and I think he would have been pleased to see all his kids and grandkids (and great grand kids!) gathered around, remembering him.

I didn’t stay for the funeral, which was held six days later.  I had said my goodbyes, and I have a relationship (one I am committing to for the rest of my life) to sustain as well, so I flew home and had my last cry on Anuj’s shoulder. 

There’s so much more to write, so many stories that have been bubbling up in my mind since Oct 13th, stories about Bompa, about impressions he made and things he said, and how happy I am I spent that last afternoon with him in August, and that he met Anuj last November… but really I wanted to keep this post short and sweet, and keep those stories private, or share them quietly with my sisters and parents, to remember him always.

For you, internet, I’ll leave you with the last photograph I have that was taken of just me and Bompa.

Comments

[Ruthie]

See Joke, that was perfect. Very sweet, I got all teary eyed reading it again. BTW... he'd turn 93 in DECEMBER (not nov)
good job :) u feel better now? or still worried? I think it was perfect.

[Jan]

Joke, het is voor de meesten een hele kunst om zijn gevoelens te uiten , en zeker te verwoorden . maar dat heb je erg goed gedaan.

[Katie K.]

I've wanted to reply to this post, but was lost for words. It was touching, Joke. Love lives on ...