Our "Usness"

Our Parisian Honeymoon, July 1996

We spoke openly of how our love might endure once Martijn was not present in the physical realm. These conversations were difficult, most difficult and touching and wrenching. Martijn found it easier to tell me of his beliefs in the love beyond space and time by quoting from respected authors. Now, as I endure pain sometimes so dark and bleak that I'd rather depart this earth, I try, really try to allow Martijn's love to in fact be transformative, transcendent. When I let myself, I feel this radiance and let it fill me with hope. It will take all my strength to overcome the loss of the physical tenderness,  gentleness,  happiness and even rapture that Martijn's mere physical presence provided. Our "Usness" was integral to our love - it existed not only in romantic embraces, but in the sheer affection and attentiveness we lavished on the other. What, I ask, what can replace this tenderness? How does my soul accept this ethereal, spiritual evolution when as a beating, breathing heart I so crave the warmth of my beloved?

I will take faith from Martijn's beliefs. Here are the two most touching pieces he presented me. The first is taken from a precious handwritten card for my 58th birthday:

Friday, the 4th of april 2008,

To my most beloved wife,

I feel very, very sad to write this down, and I don't know what words to choose. I borrow the words from Elisabeth Barrett-Browning, Sonnet XLI, from the Portuguese:

"Oh to shoot my soul's full meaning in to future years,

  That they should lend it utterance and salute

  Love that endures with Life that disappears!"

From your husband Martijn

This final note was left for me to find, marked in a book 

by the philosopher Binswanger that he was intending to use 

for his work on a thesis about love beyond time and space.

From Ludwig Binswanger, the German philosopher, 

Grundformen und Erkenntnis menschlichen Daseins. Zurich

But how are things when death does not meet You but Me? 

Even then, as your You, I am not dying; 

even then the Usness in love does not decay. 

I can only die as an individual, but not as the You of an I. 

When I die as an individual, then yet in dying, 

I am more than ever Yours, part of our Usness. 

As I received “my life” from your hands anew – 

from yours as the hands of the lover 

as much as only through you, 

the being in Usness “opened up” for me – 

I put it back into your hands when dying. 

I do not die the “heavy” death of an isolated “I”, 

but say goodbye to you knowing 

that even in this parting is still presence 

because the lover as someone who was here 

is still here in the sense of the existence of the Usness, 

a Here that rips open the depths and abysses of existence even more; 

that calls it even more into the eternal presence of love 

and allows it to exist within that love.

Martijn's Letter to His American Friends

Martijn, summer 2007

Maastricht, Wednesday, 30th of April 2008

To my dear American Friends,

I can tell my deepest emotions in a few words: I really have become to appreciate you and your country. I met a lot of openness, had fun with you, and understand much better how your society evolved from the very beginnings. In these difficult political and economic times for you I want to say that there is quite a difference between a government and the American people. I have got to know you as so much more spontaneous, energetic and even more friendly than my own countrymen. Of course I had and have some serious criticism on how the system works, but I know a lot of you do too. But let me tell you this: almost every American visitor to us in Maastricht got by me the invitation to visit the American cemetery in Margraten (near to Maastricht) and Henri-Chapelle in nearby Belgium, where so many American soldiers died for the cause of real freedom in this continent. Maybe it because I belong to an older generation already, but I have always been aware of the terrible price your country paid on behalf of us. By the way, Maastricht was the first Dutch city to be liberated. I always felt at ease near to the dead in their graves: it is the mix of the consciousness of history, stillness, and the beautiful landscape that gives the feeling that we sense the bigger and sometimes incomprehensible whole around us. I got this same feeling many times when I was very near to nature when living with Suzy in Minnesota: the Indian Summer, the sail boats on the ice of Lake Minnetonka, or sauna near frozen Prior Lake. Thank you for sharing in the beauty of your people and nature!

Martijn's Memorials in Minnesota and Pennsylvania

Martijn gazes from the gate of Palageto,

over the hills of Fiesole to Florence, Italy below, summer 2005. 

This was a time of great happiness for us.

One journey ends another begins. More than two weeks have passed since I last held my beloved. This is the longest period of time I've ever spent separated since we joined as a couple. The loss is keen and deep. I will try to move forward since that is what Martijn wanted. He saw me with a new beginning; I could never share in this vision with him though I tried to smile and I made promises of things I would do in his honor. Now I shall numbly begin to fulfill those.

Here at home in Maastricht, it seems as if Martijn's spirit worked quickly to send me an angel so that I would not be alone - physically. A dear friend, Johanna, will stay with me for an extended time. Since the funeral, in fact, she has not left my side. Her presence is like a light in the darkness - she is at once lively and lovely as well as comforting and empathetic. We both were in need of someone to share a life transition with, and so she is here and will remain.

On Monday, August 11th, I journey to Minnesota, joining friends who have been a circle of love and support for almost 20 years. I will stay with David and Michael and Suzanne and Rich, seeing and visiting with as many friends as is possible. I hopefully will get to embrace the furry Miss Snoepje and her adopted mother, Stephanie, as I know Martijn would want. He was buried holding in his hands Snoepje's raggedy 'misela', her stuffed mouse which Martijn treasured as much as any of his possessions. A recent photo of her and another treasured stuffed toy also were lovingly placed in his coffin, as I know he would have loved.

A Memorial Service under the full moon will be held in Cottagewood on Lake Minnetonka's Sandy Beach on Saturday, August 16th at sunset. All are welcome to attend and invited to bring a candle to light. We will gather at the home of our dear friends, the Youngstroms, at 8PM - 4230 Mt. Curve, Deephaven, MN.

Then I journey to Pennsylvania to spend time with many lifelong friends, first journeying to the Pocono Mountains with my dear ex-husband, Bob Ingram, to be with my soulmate, Sally Eves. From there I will stay at the New Jersey shore with Bob until after Labor Day when I will go to my dear friend, Barbara Craig, in Center City Philly. Martijn and I always adored staying at Barbara's home. 

In Philly we will hold a memorial service on Saturday, September 6th at 7:30PM at galleries of our dear friends Ruth & Rick Snyderman, 303 Cherry Street, Philadelphia, PA. Again, all are welcome to attend.

Although Martijn was so modest, he would like that others could celebrate his life, and I know, support me as I walk this road without his constant and loyal presence and protection.

When the earth shall claim your limbs, then shall you truly dance

Photo weaving - "Martijn in Susan, Susan in Martijn" 

 D. Sippel

I deeply miss my soulmate. I feel the loss in my bones; yet there must be a purpose for me ... alone, or anyway, without my better half. Right now it doesn’t feel that way. It feels cruel and terribly unfair. But I have faith, and after all, isn’t that all there is once all the illusions of life are broken upon the reality of death?

Following this brief email note is an excerpt from "The Prophet" by Kahlil Gibran sent to me by Michal Baranowski, one of my University of Maastricht classmates who attended the service and wrote:

Dear Susan,

It was really good to see you again. I wish that the occasion was just a simple visit, and that Martijn could be there, but in some way I think we were able to say hello to Martijn on that day. I wanted to thank you for inviting us, I'm really glad we could come. I wanted to thank you for the service, it was the most beautiful, moving good bye I have ever witnessed. But most importantly it was a great celebration of Martijn's life. Through his friends and family, I feel I have met him closer than possibly anytime before.

From "The Prophet":

Then Almitra spoke, saying, We would ask now of Death
And he said:
You would know the secret of death.
But how shall you find it unless you seek it in the heart of life?
The owl whose night-bound eyes are blind unto the day cannot unveil the mystery of light.
If you would indeed behold the spirit of death, open your heart wide unto the body of life.
For life and death are one, even as the river and the sea are one.

In the depth of your hopes and desires lies your silent knowledge of the beyond;
And like seeds dreaming beneath the snow your heart dreams of spring.
Trust the dreams, for in them is hidden the gate to eternity.
Your fear of death is but the trembling of the shepherd when he stands before the king whose hand is to be laid upon him in honor.
Is the sheered not joyful beneath his trembling, that he shall wear the mark of the king?
Yet is he not more mindful of his trembling?

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.

Separately a day later came this email from our dear friend John Gjerde:

Susan,
I was gone and just got your email. I am deeply saddened by the passing of Martijn. The realization feels like such a jolt that it affects every feeling in my body. Martijn is a very special person and I would always feel relaxed around him. My conversations with him were like no other - very deep with meaning. I was feeling good today and I willl fight through the sadness to see the sun still shining. I will take the dogs some place where I can feel the wind and sun and view the trees. I know I will see Martijn there somewhere and when I do, I will promise to smile. I will call. You have been wonderful. You and Martijn have a special relationship. When you mention our walks, they seem so simply. Now they seem so special. I would like to do them again and again. My love for you and Martijn can be measured by the sadness I feel. I have now shed a few tears and I would like nothing more than to give you a big hug. My heart goes out to you and family.
With all of my love,
John Gj.

And so Martijn melts into the sun. His breath is now the wind. I shall hope once more to truly dance with Martijn inside me for my remaining days. My friends and family fill my soul with hope.

Trying on His Wings

Martijn Anna Antonius Hermse

July 21, 1952 - July 25, 2008

Martijn passed peacefully at 1:45 AM in our home surrounded by his family and friends. He did indeed die with a smile on his face having spent a day greeting select family, friends and care providers, particularly our beloved Dr. Maurice Bom whose professionalism and personal warmth guaranteed Martijn a safe passage. 

The funeral will be held on Wednesday, July 30th, at the St. Janskerk in the Vrijthof Square here in Maastricht. A coffee table will offered afterwards at the Fort St. Pieter. We invite those of you can to come to the memorial service that Martijn and I together carefully planned. It will be beautiful and befitting his life. All are welcome.

As you can guess I exist now in a suspended state after such an intense period of focusing almost solely on the care of my beloved. Witnessing his death in our own bedroom, surrounded by light and love does make his passing more recognizable but not more welcome. Yes, for him I am so relieved - his pain that was great at the very end is over. But mine in finding a way, a world apart from him now begins. And so it is.

Here is the text I have written for Martijn's service in English and translated into Dutch by his brother, Janus, who has been my rock and support:

MARTIJN HERMSE: A LIFE OF LEARNING AND LOVE

For my beloved husband, Martijn, a true gentleman and scholar, and my best friend

Teaching is more difficult than learning because what teaching calls for is this: to let learn. The real teacher, in fact, lets nothing else be learned than learning. His conduct, therefore, often produces the impression that we properly learn nothing from him, if by "learning" we now suddenly understand merely the procurement of useful information.

- Martin Heidegger 

On our wedding day, almost 13 years ago, Martijn was called a “real wise guy” by a friend who intended fully the double meaning – signifying both his status as a joker or a trickster, and its ancillary meaning – a truly wise man. My beloved husband was both. He often made others comfortable by making funny jokes, catching his ‘audience’ off guard. I believe he surfaced this version of “the wise guy” because he was, in truth, a bit more intellectual than many of his listeners. So, he gently diffused many situations for them by ‘making light’ of a deep subject.

It took me a long time to appreciate this aspect of Martijn. I so admired and respected his mind that I often grew irritated when he played his verbal tricks. I wanted his intellect to shine, but his modesty prevailed. Thankfully, I grew to understand that this was yet one more aspect of his truly unique and engaging character. Thankfully, also, during our years in Maastricht, I was granted the time to be with Martijn when he was engaged with his family, whom he loved truly, madly deeply, to witness, learn, and come to appreciate his form of gentle wisdom - his “real teacher” self, as Heidegger states.

For myself and many others, Martijn will remain the ultimate teacher - by modest example. He needed no classroom, no lecture hall and no dissertation to shine his incredible intellect on any subject - from economy to environment to gastronomy to human rights to animal rights. He stands apart as a great intellect who required no fame or fortune for his wisdom. Rather, Martijn solidly inhabited a rare universe where his own armchair sufficed, and his many acolytes came naturally, drawn by his warmth and authenticity. Martijn was constant in a world of ever changing attitudes. He held his beliefs as tightly and mightily as he held those lucky enough to find themselves in his vast, loving nature. I am blessed to have been held tightly in his strong and constant arms almost everyday for 13 years. Although this temporal time was far too short, we have promised to each other that a love like ours can and shall shine through space and time to bond our souls for eternity. Those of you who have also been touched by Martijn can hold him – his humor, warmth and wisdom – eternally, and continue ‘to let learn’.

- Forever yours, Susan 

Dutch version:

Onderwijzen is moeilijker dan leren want wat onderwijzen vereist is dit: laten leren. De ware docent zorgt in feite dat er niets anders geleerd wordt dan te leren. Daardoor komt het dat hij door zijn gedrag vaak de indruk wekt dat we juist niets van hem leren, tenminste als wij nu plots onder “leren” verstaan: het louter verwerven van nuttige informatie.

- Martin Heidegger

Op onze huwelijksdag, bijna 13 jaar geleden, werd Martijn door een van zijn vrienden een “echt wijze man” genoemd, hiermee bewust doelend op de dubbele betekenis van zowel Martijns reputatie van grappenmaker en mensen voor de gek houden, als de gewone betekenis van een werkelijk wijze man. Mijn echtgenoot was beide. Hij stelde anderen vaak op hun gemak door grappige dingen te zeggen, waarmee hij zijn “toehoorders” in bescherming nam. Ik ben ervan overtuigd dat hij deze versie van “wijze man” koesterde omdat hij in werkelijkheid intellectueler was dan velen van zijn luisteraars. Op deze manier redde hij menig situatie door een zwaar onderwerp “lichter te maken”.

Ik had enige tijd nodig om dit aspect van Martijn te leren waarderen. Ik bewonderde en respecteerde zozeer zijn intelligentie dat ik mij vaak ergerde als hij weer met zijn woord-spelletjes bezig was. Ik wilde dat zijn intellect laten schijnen, maar zijn bescheidenheid voerde de boventoon. Gelukkig leerde ik mettertijd begrijpen dat dit juist weer een ander aspect van zijn uniek en innemend karakter was. Ook ben ik dankbaar dat ik, gedurende onze jaren in Maastricht, de tijd gekregen heb samen met Martijn te zijn als hij bij zijn familie was, van wie hij intens en oprecht veel hield, om getuige te zijn en te leren van zijn milde wijsheid, van zijn eigen “ware docent zijn”, zoals Heidegger zegt.

Zowel voor mijzelf als voor vele anderen zal Martijn de ultieme docent blijven - als een bescheiden voorbeeld. Hij had geen klaslokaal nodig, geen collegezaal en geen proefschrift om zijn ongelooflijk intellect uit te stralen over alle mogelijke onderwerpen - van economie tot milieuzaken, van gastronomie tot mensenrechten, of zelfs tot dierenrechten. Hij is uniek vanwege zijn grote intellect dat roem noch fortuin verlangde voor zijn wijsheid. Nee, Martijn woonde eerder in een zeldzame wereld waarin hij genoeg had aan zijn fauteuil en waar zijn vele acolieten als vanzelf kwamen, aangetrokken door zijn warmte en eigenheid. Martijn was een constante factor in een wereld van steeds veranderende opvattingen. Hij hield even onverschrokken vast aan zijn overtuigingen als hij vasthield aan degenen die het geluk hadden van zijn liefdevolle aard te mogen genieten. Ik voel me bevoorrecht dat ik gedurende bijna 13 jaar dagelijks door zijn sterke, stevige armen omarmd ben geweest. Ondanks dat deze vergankelijke tijd te kort heeft geduurd, hebben wij elkaar beloofd dat een liefde als de onze kan en moet stralen door ruimte en tijd om onze zielen te verbindenbin voor de eeuwigheid.
Wie van de aanwezigen hier door Martijn zijn geraakt, kunnen - zijn humor, warmte en wijsheid - voor eeuwig bewaren, en verdergaan met “laten leren”.

- Voor altijd de jouwe, Susan

Dear friends comfort us both

Rich Heck helps Martijn to eat on his birthday, Sunday, July 20th

Suzanne Kochevar tells Martijn of the Weeping Cherry Tree that she and Rich have named the "Martijn Tree", planted in his honor at their home near our beloved Lake Minnetonka, Minnesota. Martijn and I spent many wonderful times with Suzanne and Rich enjoying the view from their living room to the pond beyond. Now the Martijn Tree will be in full view.

It is now the final days of Martijn's life. He remains vivid at times, but mostly he sleeps. He can no longer turn himself nor eat nor hold a glass of water on his own. On Sunday his mother, Geri, and our Marcel came along with brother Janus and my sister-in-law, Irma, and brother Noel to celebrate Martijn's 56th birthday. It is a milestone he vowed to make back in March when we received the news that the cancer had spread and was terminal. 

I drift in and out of denial and acceptance that my beloved 'frog' will no longer be with me on this fragile plane of existence. Helping me through this period, which has proved to be the most difficult for me, are Suzanne and Rich. Suzanne told me months ago to simply let her know when I needed them and they would come. I did. They came on Thursday the 17th. Along with my brother-in-law, Janus, they are helping us walk this strange, mysterious, frightening path to that place where each and every one of us must go, but yet remains veiled like the fabled mists of Avalon in so much secrecy and awe. 

I am not telling you the half of the story here. We have so many brave souls to thank for providing care and support. That will come. Please read this wise saying sent to Martijn by our friend Jacqueline Braun to understand how I feel:

Friendship is the inexpressible comfort of feeling safe with a person 

having neither to weigh thoughts nor measure words.

- George Eliot (a female 19th century British novelist)

Creativity, consciousness and healing

Enfolded in the arms of your beloved you are never alone. 

Susan caresses Martijn on Tuesday, July 7, 2008.

Supported by Sebastian.

We both requested that Sebastian return (please see blog entry June 1st) to share his quiet magic and majesty. He dreamt this ritual for us while sleeping in the next bedroom the previous evening, and Martijn embraced and wholeheartedly invited enacting the concept. 

"It is better to light just one little candle than to stumble in the dark."

Transforming the porcelain washbasin to a vessel of light and reflection.

Martijn and I have lived a life of modest creativity. We continue to find strength in the creative radiance of those dear individuals who inhabit our circle of life and love. Here is a poem written for us by our dear friend, Sally Eves, who lives in the mountains of Pennsylvania with her furry creatures:

Friends

Can you hear us croon to you

in the stillness of the night?

We sing a song in praise of you

to bring you love and light.

Our voices join in melody

with creatures of the night.

The swamp frogs croak

a rhythmic bass

a cacophony our sound;

the owl hoot hoots

it unblinking eyes surveying

sky to ground;

the bat's shrill screech is softened by

the swooshing of its wings, 

the cadence of the crickets tolls

the blessing of all things;

the cat's stealthy silence adds

a pause to all the sounds,

and brings a welcome stillness to the

mystery around;

the fireflies dance in points of light

to the movement of the sound,

and beckon the stars and sultry moon

nearer to the ground.

Do you hear us croon to you

a majestic band of the night?

But nothing to compare to you - 

your royalty and light.

- Sally L. Eves

June 30, 2008

Another friend, Maureen Youngstrom, who lived next door to us in Cottagewood, a village in Deephaven, Minnesota where Martijn enjoyed the first five years of our relationship, wrote this to us today, echoing the line in Sally's poem referring to 'swamp frogs':

Dearest Susan and Martijn,

Like most of your friends and family I have been checking your blog on a regular basis to see how things are progressing for the two of you both physically and emotionally. I am so impressed and inspired by the wonderful insight and grace that you both bring to this excruciatingly difficult process. At the same time I am profoundly sad at the reality of what is happening.

I need to tell you both at the thoughts I had about you on my long and now regular walks. (I am going to Africa to climb Mt Kilimanjaro in two weeks so I'm training for that. But more about that another time). To come right to point I think of you and Martijn almost constantly when I am out walking. In the beginning I thought it was just because my walks were starting out going by your old house and because I think a big part of Martijn's identity for me is that of the 'thoughtful Cottagewood walker'. Now I've come to realize there's more to it than that. I almost always end my walk with a stop at Hidden Beach where I am usually alone. It is here that I feel a kinship with the part of both your spirits that are still here. Also, I have been receiving another sign of your spirits. I have to preface this part of the story by relaying the fact that, until recently, I had seen maybe three or four frogs in the ten years I've lived here. This being said I have seen a frog on an almost daily basis for the last couple of weeks. Usually this sighting takes place on the last leg of my walk between hidden beach and home. Yesterday, it was a pair who instead of bolting into the bushes, hoped ahead of me for several yards before they took their own path. In a way I can't really articulate this gave me an incredibly peaceful and content feeling. I only hope in the extreme intensity of your lives right now that you find moments, however fleeting, of profound peace. This is my prayer for you both each day.

My thoughts and prayers are with you through your journey

Love - Maureen

Just so you know Martijn cannot use the computer anymore but I do print emails and share all of your comments with  him for which is so grateful and filled with love. We are so supported and only wish that we could do the same back for each and every one of you. But, in fact, we do, each night when we say our prayers and hold you in our collective heart. 

Anointing of the Sick: Father Carel Cares for Martijn

At Martijn's request, Father Carel van Tulder, our beloved retired Jesuit priest who was referred to us by the cancer support organization, the Toon Herman's Huis, came on Monday, June 16th, the day after Pia's lovely concert for Martijn, to offer the catholic sacrement, Anointing of the Sick. Here Father Carel prepares the candles.

Father Carel offers a welcome and explanation.

He dons a very special stola made for him from African material. 

Father Carel anoints Martijn in our home.

The anointing of the sick is administered to bring spiritual and even physical strength during an illness, especially near the time of death. It is most likely one of the last sacraments one will receive. A sacrament is an outward sign to confer inward grace. In more basic terms, it is a rite that is performed to convey God’s grace to the recipient, through the power of the Holy Spirit. 

It has been over a week since Martijn has been able to walk down the steps to sit in our living room. It has been a difficult two weeks for me seeing Martijn less mobile and much weaker. Yet, he still is comfortable. He takes only 10mg of OxyContin twice a day, along with an injection of Fraxiprine daily (administered by a home nurse) to combat the effects of thrombosis. Up until yesterday he was able to walk from our bed to the master bathroom to empty his own catheter bag and brush his teeth - but yesterday he asked that I help with these tasks.

Each morning I prepare a healthy breakfast to bring Martijn: a small juice glass of Kanne Bread drink which I'm sure keeps his intestines well functioning; a brimming pot of Earl Grey or English Breakfast tea, fresh brewed; and a fruit smoothie I prepare with soy milk, light yogurt, Barbara's oat cereal, some oatmeal, and fresh fruits, usually seven types. Two mornings a week a home care nurse comes to wash him; the other days I help, including constant changing of the bandage he must wear over the tumor that has aggressively grown external in his left groin. This tumor leaks lymph fluid and must be 'dry dressed'; horribly, another is now appearing in his right groin. Along with these newly aggressive growths and the thrombosis, the lymph has been collecting in his legs which is why he is unable to walk. Dr. Bom has allowed that the lymph therapist begin again - a positive event since this lymph massage brings much relief to Martijn, reducing the swelling greatly.

For me this has been a very strange yet moving period. I think I am at a new level of acceptance but this has come with much psychological, emotional and physical work. My therapist Alied has  been a rock in helping me process the terrible physical changes I must witness in Martijn. He is literally flesh and bone. But, my 'work' has also allowed me to come to new understanding of our human bodies and souls. Martijn is still my beloved husband and I've come to love and appreciate his body despite its woes. His spirit is so much greater than the poor flesh and bones we tend to think of as 'life'. Today I say this seemingly easily, but the journey to his place, as I have said, has been hard won with much tears and angst.

During this period I took bold personal steps. With the loving assistance of my brother-in-law, Janus, I had a 'free' weekend. He came to care for his brother. The first evening, Friday, June 27th, I took Maurice Schoffelen for a thank you dinner and movie, then I stayed alone at Ursula's apartment while she was away. This was a night that felt like I'd descended to hell. I felt ill, really sick, and so terribly lonely. To get through the night I called Sally Eves in Pennsylvania and as always, she talked me through the worst of it. The following day I spent a wonderful time with Casey O'Dell at the local museum. Casey is like a daughter to me and her empathy and understanding were salve. Later, Claudia Vaz who lives across the hall from us, made a wonderful dinner and Johanna Martinez joined for good conversation and food. Sunday Ursula took me to Thermae 2000, a full spa with multiple pools, whirlpools, saunas and steam rooms. Because Martijn and I so loved being together at Thermae this experience was also bittersweet, but I knew that this weekend off was healing for me as well. And Martijn seemed to bask in the care and attention of his brother and family.

Martijn and I continue to care for each other during this intense journey. I put double meaning on the word, 'care'. In his own powerful way Martijn seeks to protect me from stress and worry. And so we walk together toward this light, this dark light that is our life.

Concert for Martijn

Diva Pia Brand performs a special father's day concert for Martijn at our home. When Pia learned of our situation she offered two things: to sing a special concert to boost Martijn's spirits at our home, and to sing a very special song at his memorial service to hasten his spirit to the other realm. Last Sunday, Father's Day, June 15, 2008, she made good on the first offer. Please join us to see how much Martijn enjoyed his private diva.

Metal Tiger, Water Dragon

Metal Tiger, Water Dragon

I am a Metal Tiger* conceived in passion -

Consumed by it.

You are the Water Dragon** bathed in patience -

Absolved by it.

I pounce, prance and dance.

You coil, roil and boil.

My expression bursts -

Your reflection pools.

My big cat craves approval.

Your mythic reptile shuns it.

How, now, do we blend?

Our courage matches tooth and claw,

Our generosity fills mouth and maw.

Great Dragon fear not

that your fire ignites me.

As your flames now subside

I crave, still, your heat inside.

Come, bring me your scales,

your great tail,

your fearsome mane,

and rest forever in my softer plane. 

My stripes will hide you,

my hide protect you,

my fur soften your journey,

my sharp eye and vast heart 

absorb your winged magnificence.

Until myths and legends lapse,

they will know us wherever

east meets west, yin nestles yang,

and they will understand at last 

that fate our fortunes cast.

*1950, **1952

©2008 MuseRiverProductions

Tiger Susan Schaefer for 

Dragon Martijn Hermse

10 June 2008

Transfusion

Wheels in motion. Courtesy of Dr. Bom, Martijn is transported to our hospital, azM, for a blood transfusion on Thursday, June 5th. The sudden decision came after a look at his low hemoglobin.

Fill 'er Up! The transfusion took almost 6 hours. The hoped for outcome is renewed energy. Martijn's life quality has declined precipitously since the thrombosis occurred on May 17th. He can no longer walk. He is much much weaker overall. Because he doesn't choose to ramp up his pain medicine, totally his own choice, his discomfort is obvious. It is so understandable that he doesn't wish to lose any more 'control' which he thinks will happen with increased pain medication. Yet, his trusted advisors tell him that the new pain 'patches' administer low enough doses so that he can control, to an extent, the result. 

We have been blessed by a rally of care. Thanks to Alied [Aah-LEET], my therapist, I got the courage to ask for more help from our circle here. Now, we have dinner brought almost every night by a cadre of dear friends. Monday night Audrey Sondijker, our dear friend and neighbor comes; Tuesday, Alied or Finny (another neighbor and Toon Hermans Huis volunteer) bring food prepared by Alex the chef of Toon Hermans house; Wednesday has been dinner and a movie with our dear Maurice Schoffelen for a while now; Thusday, Ursula has plied her skills and Martijn loves her German potato salad; Friday Casey and Jerome will be food angels.Geri and Marcel have been coming with dinner every Sunday.  

Ingrid Regout has offered to come on request if she is available, and Martijn's brother Janus and sister, Elly, are trying to alternate Tuesdays. 

For me, some very old high school friends have appeared via internet bringing strong and comforting connections that only such deep history with one another can provide. Most especially from my good buddy, Deb Cohen-Mersky, whose beloved husband, Marty, died suddenly last year. Many of my beloved friends from Philadelphia High School for Girls, aka, Girls High, have been keeping in touch with me since I had to cancel attending our class 40th reunion last year. Through Deb's contact and connection a new meaning to our shared history has emerged. 

To all my/our angels, near and far, old and new, we extend gratitude that simply doesn't translate well on these pages. But please know and accept that we feel, truly feel, the outpouring of love and support from you. As Martijn continues to say, "I do not feel alone on this journey." We, neither of us, feel alone. This is what is meant by connection. Thank you. Heartfelt thank you.

13 years ago today

A quiet cuddle to celebrate our 13th year anniversary of meeting after the many visits of the past days. This is how we used to fall asleep every night - tell me, what could replace this?

Today we met Helena and knew what divinity means. Dear friend, artist and magus, Sebastian Holzhuber, brought along his muse, to help us celebrate our 13th year anniversary of meeting. Martijn was one of Sebastian's earliest models for his unique tribal art works. He brought Martijn a book of his collected works including the 'banquet series' where Martijn first posed.  Sebastian conducts rituals to help individuals make transitions through art and creativity.  

Yvonne, Dorothé , Fulco, and Aad flank Martijn. These friends go back 30 years to when Martijn was a member of the Pax Christie walking group. Last year Aad and Martijn helped to arrange a 30 year anniversary for their group and were astounded and pleased when everyone showed up!

Martijn and I met at his apartment in the Eastern Haborlands of Amsterdam 13 years ago today on June 1st. It's a wonderful story of coincidence and irony that forged a bond that's not been broken since that day. An important link in our chain is the Chizek/Frederick families of Iowa. Rob Chizek was my best friend during this time of my life and through me he ended up staying with Martijn. When I arrived in Amsterdam Rob and I stayed at Martijn's flat. The very first week I was there Rob's sister Nancy Frederick, husband David and then teenage children, Tanna and Nate, arrived for their first trip ever to Europe. We held a two-day party at Martijn's. Nancy wrote to us this evening. Here is her account of those days:

Dear Suze and Martijn,

Suzie, your poem was absolutely beautiful! Thank you for sharing it.

I have been wanting to write both of you for some time to tell you how much you are in my thoughts and in my heart. I love your blog site........it is so wonderful for me to know what is happening in your lives and all of your thoughts and feelings as you pass through these transitions. Again, I thank you for being so generous as to share yourselves with me.

Though our paths have crossed only occasionally in the last few years, I still think about the memories I have with the two of you and I will embrace those forever.

Martijn, I still think about how kind and warm you were to open up your home and your heart to David, Tanna, Nathaniel and I when we came to Amsterdam! I remember you greeting us at the door of your "flat" in Amsterdam and giving us those wonderful, cozy slippers to wear...I felt so nurtured and welcome. And how you provided a wonderful party for us and we drank every bottle of wine you owned and had a marvelous time! I remember eating the herring and you showing us how to let them slide down our throats and them follow them with a bit of spirits. And I remember how you graciously escorted us on the bus back to our hotel at 5 am because you were concerned we wouldn't be able to find our way back on our own.......which was very true. And I will never forget how your little Suzie frog looked at you that night at the party and exclaimed, "You look like someone I could have really gone for in the 60's!" (or something to that effect). Anyway, that seemed to be the beginning of your beautiful relationship...it was wonderful to be a part of that. Thank you.

Something else that I wanted to tell you Martijn is that I don't think in my 57 years of life that I have met a person as warm and caring and gentle as you....you epitomize what Abraham Maslow would describe as "self-actualized". I have always wanted to be able to honor someone with that term of "self-actualization" and now I can. Of course you are also very humble so will not accept the title......but to me the title is yours. I thank you for sharing your beautiful mind and spirit with me and all of my family over the years, Martijn...how very fortunate for us to have had you in our lives!

May this precious time that you and Suzie are sharing be filled with the splendor of life and the tenderness of love!

Please take care.

Much love and admiration,

Nancy

Nancy, thank you for the best anniversary gift of all. 

Flash back

Susan in a real "Poodle Dress" with father, Jack B. and mother, Emma, 1953.

I wrote the following poem for my beloved father Jack as he lay dying in a hospital across from a lovely lake in Sanford, Florida. Dad died a courageous and graceful death from prostrate cancer. Like Martijn he kept his wits and humor about him until the very end. I think my love for Martijn stems in many respects from my love for my father who wanted to protect me from anything harmful. I hope you like my poem:

One Light

slowly slipping from me
your spark
that seminal flame
that lit me into being
and lights me still
is flickering
fading
slowly
your silver sheen pales

yet
I shine for you
in crystal tears
of parting
in golden comfort
of knowing
you’ll glow hereafter
you’ll glimmer
here
in me
father

©1982 Susan Schaefer, Ride the New Morning: Collected Poems

Care Giving: Perspectives

Martijn rests on Thursday in his study on his day bed 

reading "Night Train to Lisbon".

Nurse Ans wraps to contain the thrombosis

His
It was a horrific week for Martijn. It began on Saturday, May 17th when his right leg swelled painfully to twice its size. This swelling was different than that associated with the lymph symptoms, so we called Dr. Bom that evening. He responded quickly assessing the situation as thrombosis and calling a specialist with the symptoms and medical history to confirm his suspicions. Normally a patient would go to hospital for tests, but given Martijn’s condition everyone agreed to proceed. Dr. Bom ordered injections of blood thinner, which he administered that evening, and wrapping material used to treat thrombosis. The next day our old home care team from ‘Green Cross’ began their work with us as they had post operatively last fall. Nurse Ans arrived Sunday to wrap carefully Martijn’s affected leg and continue with the injections. Monday one nurse bathed him while another team checked the wrapping and yet another came for the now nightly injections. But other complications surfaced: constipation and urination problems. Dr. Bom ordered stool softeners for the former and what is called a condom catheter for the latter. But by Thursday Martijn’s abdomen was painfully distended in spite of the fact that the thrombosis swelling in his leg was decreasing. Thursday evening I asked Dr. Bom to come to check his abdomen – his renewed assessment was bladder blockage. Again the night pharmacy delivered and after a ‘real’ catheterization Martijn began to flow again. What a difference – by Friday his bladder was functioning as well as his bowels. Appetite returned. His color and energy returned. And for the time being we feel that he has stabilized. During this time of distress Martijn kept his constant centered disposition, but the episode has taken a great toll on his energy.

Mine
And on mine. During this latest period the cumulative care giving has taken a toll on my energy. I have managed, up until now, to regroup after previous roller coaster effects, but not this time. Even with my brother-in-law, Janus, agreeing to come to administer to Martijn all day this past Wednesday so that I could attend a mixed business and pleasure team-building outing with my Knowledge Management colleagues from ECDPM, I have slipped a notch. Thursday I met with Alied van der Aa, my therapist, and we agreed that I would begin a more formal and rigorous attempt to schedule extra help for me. While Green Cross takes good medical care of Martijn, I still must be here to change his wound bandages twice a day (the tumor in his groin that is external), empty his catheter bag regularly, make and serve breakfast, lunch and dinner every day, put on and take off his clothing twice a day, and direct the various nurses on where to find what. On top of this, since we have no Dutch benefits, I have tried to continue to work, although mostly from home. Nevertheless, you can imagine the stress and strain to focus. Hopefully, this week I will work with Alied to turn the tide. Brother-in-law, Janus and my sister-in-law, Elly, will rotate taking one full day a week to be here with their brother. My mother-in-law already comes on Sundays brining home cooking. Maurice Schoffelen has been coming on Wednesday evenings regularly. Now I will try to find others to cook at least five days a week, taking at least that pressure off of me.

Physical pressure is only a part of it, though. It feels as if I’ve been a social outcast for a very long time now. I, who typically am so socially inclined, have been incredibly isolated for almost 16 months. It may seem we’ve had many guests but please don’t confuse this with leading a happy, balanced social life. I hardly visit outside the house and when I do I mostly want to return to be with Martijn. It is impossible to feel good about outside events when my heart is breaking. Which is the other part of this ordeal – how very sad it is to see your beloved in pain and literally breaking down on a daily basis. This sense of loss is palpable. The good news is that I’m very aware of my grief and mourning – not stuffing feelings or hiding from the pain. Nor am I wallowing in it. I know and recognize the loss I’m suffering for just what it is – a monumental loss. My life as we lived it is gone, and has been so for over a year.

Ours
And, the life we anticipated is gone as well. No retirement together living in this soft green landscape and traveling the world. No leisure time with family and friends, watching each other grow old. No more quiet evenings just hanging out, ribbiting and croaking for joy. No more back scratches or walks along the River Meuse.

What is here now, though, is an existence that is as sweet as it is bitter, maybe sweeter than that.

I have been given a rare gift, to spend Martijn’s final days together, hopefully providing him what he wants and needs. I have the fortunate circumstances where I can be with my sweet philosopher frog in our own home, in his own hometown, surrounded by his loving family with his longest-term friends nearby. We have loving and caring friends, my angels, who fly in from here and there, in person and virtually, to care for both of us as best they can. Thanks to the Toon Hermans Huis, we have learned of many resources available to us including finding Dr. Bom, Alied and others. And, although I am scraping the bottom of my savings, at least my years of work have allowed me to put away for a rainy day. So, in spite of the fact that we have absolutely no benefits from the Dutch government, we still have lovely home and can afford the medical insurance that provides for us in this time of dire need. And, as long as I can continue, I have work.

It still remains impossible to conceive that Martijn will not walk among us. His strength of spirit and his ongoing physical prowess in the face of so much deterioration speaks volumes about the care he took of his body, mind and spirit before this cancer felled him. Nothing will replace the love, gentleness, the spark that our relationship brings me – but I will always know we walked completely together in sickness and health, in joy and sadness, ‘til death do us part.

Complications

Standing strong together, Mother's Day, May 11, 2008 in our home.

Martijn reads in our outer courtyard on Monday, May 5th.

Yesterday, May 17th,  Martijn suffered a ‘setback’ in his well being. He has developed a painful thrombosis – an anticipated side effect of his increasing immobility. We had an emergency visit by our lovely doctor, Dr. Bom, last night. Martijn will now be receiving injections to thin his blood and have his leg wrapped. This will decrease his mobility but hopefully this will only be a temporary setback with the proper treatment and rest.

Philadelphia Brigade Brightens My Grief

Sisters Kate & Alex Tasch arrive in Maastricht on Friday, May 9, 2008, bringing their special brand of comfort, care and fun!

Busted? No. Great friend Maurice Schoffelen isn't locking the girls up, but merely offering his back of the van transport as Alex and Kate head to our friend Jacqueline Braun's bed & breakfast located a tad too far for walking from our home in Centre Ceramique. We've decided it is best for our guests not to stay with us at this time to preserve the most peace and quiet for Martijn and me.

On Saturday, May 10th, Martijn accepted an invitation to spend a few hours at his mother's cabin located 20 minutes away in Lanaken, Belgium by car. Maurice thought it would be nice to show K&A nearby Valkenburg, Limberg's equivalent of New Jersey's Wildwood. Very touristy. We walked the town, viewed the ruins, rode the ski lift to the tower on the hill and ate fattening 'biter balen" the local answer to Philly cheesesteaks. Heavy on calories and taste!

Alex, Maurice and Kate pick up sticks on a short hike through Valkenburg's woods. Total twiggies.

When Kate and Alex wrote that they would like to visit Martijn and me I felt overwhelmed with gratitude. You see, the Tasch family was my first 'official' adopted family. Their father, Peter, became my first 'real' employer in 1969, when, as a work-study student at Temple University I became the Office Administrator for the scholarly journal, The Scriblerian, which Peter edited and managed with two other colleagues. I worked for Peter for three years, during which time his wife, Alison, who also taught in Temple's English department where I was a student, and their three children, Jeremy, Kate and Alex, became my first 'family' of choice. It is a relationship I've maintained and cherished over the past 40 years. In fact, when I ran my Philadelphia Public Relations Firm, Ingram & Picker, Alex became one of our first intern's, making the cycle full.

Their visit opened a window of my soul letting some light into the darkness that currently dwells there. My grief of late has lodged deep and wide. Even as Martijn proves his mettle by his heroic ability to tough out his pain and keep up his overwhelming good humour, even as he labors to do the small things for himself he is able to do, I mourn my upcoming loss. Just this determination, just this magic display of character, though also intended to help me in my daily routines by keeping independent as long as he can, seems to intensify my impending sense of loss. I WILL MISS MARTIJN ENTIRELY BECAUSE OF HIS SPIRIT. While I know the 'ruling' zen wisdom is to accept each day we still have and to cherish it, I admit to you that I mostly dwell in deep despair at my own sense of loss. And, I am not ashamed nor remorseful about this. It is what I feel. I am neither wallowing in sadness nor looking for sympathy - only marking my own reality to share with you.

Mostly when I'm with Martijn, I do not feel this despair. It is only when I'm alone - when he's sleeping or resting upstairs or I'm in the shower or washing up dishes. Also, when I'm out and about Maastricht. Maastricht is Martijn for me. 

So, it was with supreme gratitude that I found being out and about with Kate and Alex, along with our dear steady 'tour guide' Maurice, that I felt lighter for the first time in a long while. Sharing our long and mutual Philadelphia-based history was a panacea for my ills. Identifying landmarks like the Wissahickon Trail in the Germantown section of Philly where we were neighbors for many years, or sharing snatches of history like the big English Department parties hosted by their parents in my carefree student days, filled me with a sweet succor of long term friendship. We didn't run out of stories or reminiscences during the entire weekend of their visit. And the icing on the cake was spending Mother's Day with two young women who feel like my own daughters.

There is much more to tell about Kate and Alex and the wonderful Tasch family. Like Kate's own role as caretaker for her partner, Michele during her frightening bouts with leukemia, or Alex's recent scare with a burst appendix, or the time Martijn and I stayed in a funny, funky Manhattan apartment of Alex's former boss, or the huge party hosted by Peter and Alison for me when Temple University honored me with a distinguish humanities award, or Peter an Alison's current struggle with the Parkinson's disease that is ravaging their lives. So much history and so much love.

So, I have found a lasting 'afterburn' from their visit that is helping me back on track to enjoy Martijn's enduring love and company now. What a great gift. 

Poignant Plans

My American 'brothers', David Fey & Michael Putman traveled to Maastricht in late April to offer support and love. They stayed with us for a few days before heading to Amsterdam and back home to Minneapolis. It was a most meaningful visit. David stayed with me for a week when Martijn underwent surgery in October; Michael actually got his very passport and made his very first visit outside North American for this occasion. 

Father Carel van Tulder, a retired Jesuit priest, will facilitate the memorial service for Martijn. We've been meeting regularly. Carel is comforting and grounding for us. He is open to our ideas for the service and says he is amazed at how centered we seem to be. We are grateful that he is in our circle. 

Werner, Martijn's dear friend from university days, and his partner Henk, spend some time with us a few weeks back.

Therese and Rob Frank enjoy a spot of sun in our courtyard. They go back to Martijn's university days, the same time he knew Werner.

It has been an emotionally draining time for me. Martijn, thankfully, continues to be comfortable, but in the past weeks we've begun to finalize the plans for the memorial service, funeral, and cemetery. In each case there has been a  bittersweet poignancy in the activities.

Martijn and I treat each subject with love and respect, even making jokes and being lighthearted. And the various individuals, like Father van Tulder, who are involved fill my heart with gratitude. 

Yesterday we chose the location for the memorial service, which will be the stunning St. Jan's Kerk in the literal middle of Maastricht - its center square, the Vrijthof. Both Martijn and I were pleased to learn it is available and has all the features we wanted - central location, beautiful interior, ample seating and excellent musical facilities. Our beloved friend, Herman Rouw, has agreed to play and organize the music. Herman is world class conductor, composer and pianist, but most important, he is our dear friend. He has also agreed to accompany one of my newer friends, Pia Brand, who works with me at ECDPM. Pia has kindly offered to sing the moving song, "Beloved Wife", by Natalie Merchant, a tribute of one spouse to the other. Martijn and I love this song and have agreed it will end the service. 

We also selected the location where the Dutch coffee table will take place - the fortress that sits atop Maastricht. This is the typical gathering here that follows the funeral. The church and this fort are places Martijn and I love and so have a lot of meaning. Yesterday we also selected the coffin and today, our dear friend Maurice Schoffelen accompanied me as I drove in my new car share to the cemetery that Martijn asked me to check. It is where his grandfather Martijn Mullens rests. By coincidence the caretaker was available and I was able to secure the spot to the right of his grandfather and grandmother's gravesite. Our good friend, Frank Koekenbaker, "Cookie", visited with Martijn while we made these arrangements.

As you may imagine these are details that must be attended to. And while we are both grateful that Martijn can make the arrangements as he prefers, it has taken all of my equilibrium to do these things with grace. 

Tonight, Ursula stopped by with Martijn's favorite newspapers and some special treats from her native Blackforest in Germany, and the wonderful owners of our favorite Maastricht restaurant, Le Courage, prepared and delivered a lovely dinner requested by Martijn - sweetbreads with grilled potatoes and veggies. We feasted as we often do, watching the Australian television series, "McLeod's Daughters". Our poignant plans now underway, hopefully we can enjoy each day that we have left.