Death of a Warrior

Death of a warrior

Your boat is sailing now
The glow of the candles brings light to your journey
as you slowly glide towards new horizons
Slain in battle, brave warrior
Too soon, too cruel

We stand on the shore and cry in pain and anger
We curse at the Gods, he was one of us!
No armour can shield us from this
No weapons to fight it
Apart from one... love

Know now, brave warrior that you are not forgotten
Every tree knows your name and whispers in the wind
He was one of us cries the rain
and reflects your face a million times
As do our hearts

On the other side the warriors that went before await
Come now brother, take your place amongst us
Rest and eat and join in the festivities
You earned your place with honor
and dignity

And while still grieving we too must face another fight
The battle continues each time the sun rises
We know that in our darkest hours you will stand right beside us
Love conquers all and you will always be
one of us

Real

" 'Real isn't how you are made,' said the Skin Horse. 'It's a thing that happens to you...' 'Does it hurt?' asked the Rabbit. 'Sometimes,' said the Skin Horse, for he was always truthful. 'When you are Real, you don't mind being hurt...It doesn't happen all at once,' said the Skin Horse. 'You become. It takes a long time. That's why it doesn't often happen to people who break easily, or have sharp edges, or who have to be carefully kept. Generally, by the time you are Real, most of your hair has been loved off, and your eyes drop out and you get loose in the joints and very shabby. But these things don't matter at all, because once you are Real you can't be ugly, except to people who don't understand.' "
Margery Williams, The Velveteen Rabbit

I found this quote in a book I had forgotten I loved so much. It made me realize just what it is, I admire in Ron. Ron is utterly Real.

We have been through a lot together. Life has given us blow after blow after blow to handle, and many times it was him who was the one to take the major part of the blow. He has been very ill several times and I have watched him fight his pain without ever loosing his patience once. He was laid off by an IT company he loved working for and has been struggling to get back where he belongs workwise since. And now, he has lost his son.

If it is true that we don't get more than we can handle, then someone up there must have an incredible lot of faith in him. Does that sound cynical and angry? Well it should, because that is exactly how I feel, apart of course from tremendously sad to see him hurt so badly. And if everything happens for a reason, then please, somebody, tell me what it is, because you have completely lost me here.

Yet... I see him fighting yet another terrible battle and doing so with dignity, integrity, honor and acceptance. I stood in awe when one of the first decisions he took after it became clear that there was no hope left for his son, was that the boy's organs were to be donated to help and save other people with. If a man, under those horrible circumstances, can think of a thing like that... that's when you know he is Real. Over the past days I have seen him cry or go silent many times, but I have also seen his determination to not go completely to pieces and go on. Or as he puts it himself: we will live on until we survive.

And we will. I know we will. The time will come when this too will have found its place to rest in our hearts, not forgotten, but integrated into all that we are made of. Into all, that makes us Real.

In loving memory of Gerard

In loving memory of Gerard


On August 17, 2004 Ron's oldest son Gerard has died unexpectedly. Gerard was only 17.

There are no words to even begin describing the sadness this incredible loss is causing everyone who knew him. And apart from the deep sadness there is anger, pain, and non understanding. Life at times can be so cruel and so unfair.

Gerard.. a young dog as one of his friends called him. Reckless at times, but with his heart in the right place and living life to the max. Always positive, straight forward, and with a solid belief in right and wrong. A leader, an initiator, enthusiastic and full of dreams and ideas. A guy all were happy to know and most of all: a guy to be incredibly proud of.

We were so happy that the contact between him and Ron had been reestablished. They chatted for hours and hours via MSN, and only a few weeks ago we went to visit Gerard in his house. We are grateful that at least we have this to look back on. Grateful for the memories. Grateful, for everything Gerard stood for and for the fact that in spite of the circumstances we were able to be a part of that.

One day the pain will fade and find its place in our hearts. But for now, we have no words to express how it feels and so we use W.H. Auden's poem Funeral Blues instead...


Funeral Blues

Stop all the clocks, cut off the telephone,
Prevent the dog from barking with a juicy bone,
Silence the pianos and with muffled drum
Bring out the coffin, let the mourners come.

Let aeroplanes circle moaning overhead
Scribbling on the sky the message He Is Dead,
Put crepe bows round the white necks of the public doves,
Let the traffic policemen wear black cotton gloves.

He was my North, my South, my East and West,
My noon, my midnight, my talk, my song;
I thought that love would last forever; I was wrong.

The stars are not wanted now: Put out every one;
Pack up the moon and dismantle the sun;
Pour away the ocean and sweep up the wood,
For nothing now can ever come to any good.