This Day

In the early morning of June 8 1999 my beautiful mom passed away. She was 48. Mijn mama. Ons moeder. Ons Ans.

I remember her as a very strong woman, soft and kind. I remember her very long ginger hair. Her skin, with a lot of freckles. The smallpox vaccination scar on her upper arm. The way she folded socks.

I resemble her, in many ways. The way I look, that is obvious. The crying with laughter. We all do that, my sisters and me.
Just like her, I like to smile, a lot, and care for people. But on the other hand, I can be a little cold, distant and inconsistent. Just like her.

After my dad left the household when I was quite young I had troubles sleeping, worrying about my mom leaving me. She was my rock, in my world there was no life without her.
I still miss her, every day.

Her death was followed by more people leaving, that shouldn't leave. The years that followed were hard, but I managed to keep on track, and finish high school when I was 22.
Student life changed a lot, I made new friends (the ones I keep talking about), learned to have a good time, and tried to be as normal as I could. And at 25, I finally started a normal father-daughter relationship with my dad.

Today I bought myself a flower bouquet. They didn't have flowers in my moms favourite colours, so I went with my own favourite, pink.

Now, I'm off to meet some sisters, for some crying, with laughter probably.

Please, treasure those you love. Don't ever take them for granted, they can be gone before you know it.