We had to arrange a funeral together, I met my brother and sister in Groesbeek-De Horst. My sister had stomach flu, you will always see. Her husband’s mother was also not well. My brother had slept two hours in a week. Three lives.
I had made up my mind not to quarrel, I believe the others felt the same way. It was balancing on a thin rope.
DELA came, two women strong, one seasoned and one trainee.
A folder with caskets, flower arrangements and mourning cards.
The tombstone was not included in the package.
Velp was, in terms of cemeteries, in ‘an expensive area’.
The stone on my father’s grave, which would soon be a communal grave, could be turned upside down. It could then be re-engraved, it was also not included in the package.
So far so good; like a knife through butter.
I brought up the hassle around choosing the coffin for my father at the time, we chose spruce wood this time.
The coffee table was also not included in the package.
A bunch of flowers or a small wreath is.
Did we want a fingerprint from mother? Then identical silver pendants could be made for a chain.
Also not included in the package.
Paula van Roosmalen-Breekelmans was laid out sixty kilometers away, but was included in the package. Was she with or without jewelry? With or without a wedding ring? Which dress? We had to come another day to see her, later it turned out to be possible late at night.
After the question whether that was included in the package, the experienced DELA woman no longer felt comfortable.
Was that necessary?
Then the false air ran out of the valve.
We managed to inflate something small into a large red balloon.
To the HEMA for a photo and a frame for the spruce box, a game of table football, a walk, to her room in the nursing home for the last time. We managed to write texts for the mourning card and the prayer card together. We drove in a car to the funeral home and then to the church in Velp, where we fought side by side for ‘The Elephant Song’ by Kamahl, her favorite number.
The Blue Lotus, the Chinese restaurant in a flat on Den Heuvel that is always open, was closed. We ate her money at an Italian restaurant we’d never been to.
I was the only one hungry.
So far we have been very good to each other.
Marcel van Roosmalen writes an exchange column with Ellen Deckwitz here.
A version of this article also appeared in the newspaper of February 10, 2023