Perspective - Retrospective

Rich Heck, Suzanne Kochevar and us, outside Paris, Spring 2005

Rich cares for Martijn, July 21, 2008

Suzanne comforts Martijn, July 21, 2008

Kelly comforts Suzanne, July 30, 2009

Rich basks in rain shower, July 30, 2009

The Martijn Tree, bathed in a rain/sun shower, Rich & Suzanne's backyard, July 2009

Through seasons, through time and space, through happiness, through health, through sickness, through sadness, Suzanne and Rich have been there for Martijn and me, and for me alone. They escorted us to our wedding, they made us part of their family at Christmases, they joined us to enjoy the blessings of our European lifestyle and then, at the most difficult moment in our lives, they came to help us as Martijn transitioned to the next plateau. Suzanne and Rich define dedication and love. Now, as Suz recovers from her knee surgery, I join them through yet more of life's transitions. I am blessed by their freindship.

One Year in Memoriam

It is difficult to conceive that almost a year has passed. On Saturday, July 25th, family and friends will gather at the graveside and then continue on to the astoundingly beautiful home of Martijn's Aunt Sybil Houben at the nearby village of Geulle. Martijn loved his aunt and her home. We will say a few words at the cemetery and hopefully be able to truly celebrate the life of this most genuine, gentle and loving husband, son, brother and friend to so many of us:

Martijn Anna Antonius Hermse

One Year In Memoriam

July 21, 1952 - July 25, 2008

We remember and celebrate

the life of our beloved Martijn

For what is it to die but to stand naked in the wind and to melt into the sun?

And what is to cease breathing, but to free the breath from its restless tides, that it may rise and expand and seek God unencumbered?

Only when you drink form the river of silence shall you indeed sing.

And when you have reached the mountain top, then you shall begin to climb.

And when the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance.

- Kahlil Gibran, The Prophet

Time only strengthens our love

Susan Schaefer, wife

Gerry Hermse Mullens, mother

Janus Hermse, brother, and family

Elly Kerckhoffs, sister, and family

Noel Hermse, brother and family

Marcel Winten, friend

A tribute to my friend, Bill Tyson

Bill Tyson, wife, Eddie Poletti, friend, Cindy Serano, April 5, 2009, Palm Beach, Florida.

This is tribute to my dear friend, William R. Tyson, who left us suddenly on July 3rd, just a week after his 25th wedding anniversary with Eddie. How fortunate for me I was able to spend time with him in the spring when he and Eddie hosted Cindy and me at their Palm Beach dwelling.

A Most Loyal Man: In Memory of My Friend, Bill Tyson

Loyalty is underrated, dear Bill,
for when given freely,
laced with love, as yours,
it’s a priceless quality.

Your friendship stretched
beyond mere time and space
enfolding ALL of us who shared
those paltry twins with you -
time and space.

No matter how far we ventured,
there you were, so beloved by Eddie
that your heart knew no bounds
and could keep track of us
wherever in the world we landed.

Dear Bill, your love and friendship
was a constant in a world of
Change and forgetting.

As you try on your wings
enfold Eddie there,
sweep her in,
hold her tight,
so that she can continue the journey
knowing she’s not alone,
never alone,
held securely by your love
beyond time and space.

Go sweetly, gently, into that place
where we all shall meet.

Susan Schaefer
July 5, 2009

When Death Visits Words From Celtic Wisdom

Suze and Martijn relax by the Bay at Dungarven, near Waterford, Ireland, Summer 2005

Life's pace has picked up a little here. Still, I bask in long languishing summer days and glimmering evenings. It is coming up to a year that Martijn is gone. I'll let a brilliant writer and philosopher explain what happens when someone you love dearly dies. John O'Donohue wrote this in this lovely book, Anam Cara, a few short years before death stole his soul quietly, unexpectedly one evening:

Death is a lonely visitor. After it visits your home, nothing is ever the same again. There is an empty place at the table; there is an absence in the house. Having someone close to you die is in an incredibly strange and desolate experience. Something breaks in within you then that will never come together again. Gone is the person whom you loved, whose face, and hands and body you knew so well. ... The death of a loved one is bitterly lonely.

Everyone wants the one left behind to 'be better' to 'move forward'. We move. We move. But there is always a hole where s/he's supposed to be.