DANS DOOR HET LEVEN....
Van kleins af aan was mijn vader mijn idool en voorbeeld,
zoals voor veel kleine meisjes.
Als iemand mij vroeg met wie ik later wilde trouwen, was
mijn antwoord steevast: pappa!
Toen ik groter werd en begreep dat dit geen optie was, antwoordde
ik altijd: met iemand die net zo als
mijn vader is.
Ik herinner me dat wij allebei gek waren op dansen.
Ik leerde de wals en de tango, de cha cha en de foxtrot met
mijn voeten op zijn voeten en we hadden het grootste plezier samen.
Als iets tegenzat in mijn jonge leventje, dan zei hij
altijd: ‘meiske, dans door het leven dan lijken al je problemen kleiner. Dans
in gedachten met mij en vindt daar steun in.’
Dit werd tijdens mijn puberjaren en jonge volwassenheid,
toen ik helaas weinig tot geen contact met hem had door de traumatische
scheiding van mijn ouders, mijn levensmotto.
Het hielp meestal en het gaf me in ieder geval troost.
Jaren later hertrouwde hij met een lieve vrouw en, tegen de
wil van mijn moeder, kreeg ik weer contact met hem en alle jaren van scheiding
werden naar de achtergrond geschoven en het was weer als vanouds tussen ons.
Ik danste weer met hem, zowel in de huiskamer als op
feestjes maar ook in onze manier van communiceren.
Mijn vader was een gelovige maar niet erg kerkelijke man en
als grapje zei hij vaak: ‘Als ik naar de grote balzaal boven ga, dan zal ik
daar op je wachten en openen we samen het bal.
Slechts enkele jaren hebben we nog samen gekend. Toen werd
hij ernstig ziek en in een tijdsbestek van enkele weken veranderde hij van een
vitale man in een broze en zwakke afspiegeling van zichzelf.
Hij was de laatste dagen niet meer echt aanspreekbaar door
de morfine die ze hem gaven waardoor hij hallucinaties kreeg en het vele vocht
in zijn longen waardoor praten bijna onmogelijk werd.
Op de laatste avond was ik in het ziekenhuis om afscheid van
hem te nemen.
Ik voelde me intens verdrietig en machteloos en hij was
buiten bewustzijn.
Ik zat naast zijn bed, hield zijn hand vast en haalde wat
herinneringen op en zei: ‘paps, wacht op me in de grote balzaal boven terwijl
ik hem kuste.
Alsof hij het gehoord had, fluisterde hij met moeite:
‘meiske, dans door het leven en dans in gedachten met mij dan zal ik altijd bij
je zijn’
Een dag later is hij overleden, ik was helaas 10 minuten te
laat in het ziekenhuis.
Dit is mijn mooie, laatste herinnering aan mijn vader en ik
leef nog steeds volgens zijn motto.
ENGLISH VERSION:
Dance through life…
Ever since I was a little girl my dad was my idol, like for many young girls.
Whenever someone asked me with who I wanted to marry, I always answered: daddy!
When I grew older, I learned that this wasn’t an option, but then I answered: with someone who’s just like my dad.
I remember that we both loved to dance.
I learned the waltz, the tango and foxtrot with my little feet on his big ones and we had lots of fun together.
Whenever something bad happened in my young life, he always told me: ‘girlie, dance through life and your problems will seem smaller. Dance in your mind with me and find comfort in that”.
This saying became my life’s motto in my puberty and adolescent years, when I had little to none personal contact with him after the traumatic and difficult divorce of my parents.
It usually helped me or at least comforted me.
Years later he remarried to a very sweet lady and, against my mother’s wishes, I had personal contact with him again and all the lonely years without him got to the background of my mind and everything was like it was once before.
Again I danced with him, in the living room of his home and on parties but also in our way of communication.
My dad was a religious man but not very church going en as a small joke he often said to me: ‘When it’s my time to go to the great ballroom up there, I’ll be waiting for you so together we can open the dance in style.’
Only a few years we enjoyed each other’s company and then he got severely ill with cancer and in just a few weeks time he changed from a healthy and strong man in a weak and brittle reflection of himself.
The last days of his life, I couldn’t reach him anymore because of the high doses of morphine they gave him, from which he got hallucinations and the large amounts of fluid building up in his lungs made talking almost impossible.
On the last evening I was in the hospital to say my final goodbyes.
I felt intensely sad and powerless and he was unconscious at that moment.
I sat next to his bed, held his hand and talked about some beautiful memories we shared together and I softly said, while kissing him:’ daddy, wait for me in that great ballroom upstairs..
As if he heard me, he woke up and whispered:’girlie, dance through life and dance in your mind with me and I’ll be always close to you’
This is my beautiful, last memory of my dad and I still try to live by his motto.
ENGLISH VERSION:
Dance through life…
Ever since I was a little girl my dad was my idol, like for many young girls.
Whenever someone asked me with who I wanted to marry, I always answered: daddy!
When I grew older, I learned that this wasn’t an option, but then I answered: with someone who’s just like my dad.
I remember that we both loved to dance.
I learned the waltz, the tango and foxtrot with my little feet on his big ones and we had lots of fun together.
Whenever something bad happened in my young life, he always told me: ‘girlie, dance through life and your problems will seem smaller. Dance in your mind with me and find comfort in that”.
This saying became my life’s motto in my puberty and adolescent years, when I had little to none personal contact with him after the traumatic and difficult divorce of my parents.
It usually helped me or at least comforted me.
Years later he remarried to a very sweet lady and, against my mother’s wishes, I had personal contact with him again and all the lonely years without him got to the background of my mind and everything was like it was once before.
Again I danced with him, in the living room of his home and on parties but also in our way of communication.
My dad was a religious man but not very church going en as a small joke he often said to me: ‘When it’s my time to go to the great ballroom up there, I’ll be waiting for you so together we can open the dance in style.’
Only a few years we enjoyed each other’s company and then he got severely ill with cancer and in just a few weeks time he changed from a healthy and strong man in a weak and brittle reflection of himself.
The last days of his life, I couldn’t reach him anymore because of the high doses of morphine they gave him, from which he got hallucinations and the large amounts of fluid building up in his lungs made talking almost impossible.
On the last evening I was in the hospital to say my final goodbyes.
I felt intensely sad and powerless and he was unconscious at that moment.
I sat next to his bed, held his hand and talked about some beautiful memories we shared together and I softly said, while kissing him:’ daddy, wait for me in that great ballroom upstairs..
As if he heard me, he woke up and whispered:’girlie, dance through life and dance in your mind with me and I’ll be always close to you’
This is my beautiful, last memory of my dad and I still try to live by his motto.