June 5th, 2021


'The highest tribute to the dead is not grief but gratitude' - Thornton Wilder

It's been 11 days since my mother died.

I was actually receiving my first Pfizer jab when the call came through that Mum had had a stroke and was being treated in hospital. When I got there, and spoke to the neurologist, it soon became clear that there wasn't very much they could do for her. This was the Friday before Pentecost; she died the Tuesday after.

Her funeral was last Wednesday, which my sister and I had organised according to Mum's wishes. The vicar from Mum's church came to remember her on behalf of her small Dutch Protestant community; my sister, my niece and myself spoke about what Mum had meant to us, and my nephew played the guitar beautifully. Unfortunately, because of the Covid restrictions still in place, not many people could attend, but those that did say it was a beautiful service and we did her proud.

I went back to work the day after, but had to give it up after a few hours, unable to focus and with a terrible headache. I'll try again Monday.