Maastricht Musings

Photo: ©Bert Janssen for Pecha Kucha

Susan listens to Bob at Pecha Kucha Maastricht evening

I am keeping busy, teaching Management Principles for a sort of community college, conducting research for Maastricht University's new architecture and urban planning programme, writing for our online expats' newspaper, Crossroads, becoming involved in the tenant's board of my apartment building and most critically, becoming more involved in the discussion about the conditions for expats in the Maastricht area. Here's my latest entry:

Maastricht Region Expats: The good, the bad and the ugly

October 21, 2009  By Drs. Susan Schaefer

The issue:

There is a leadership vacuum to initiate a strategic, creative problem-solving engine designed solely to address the well-documented lack of services, spirit and support for the Maastricht region’s expat community. In a coincidental way, this is tied into Maastricht’s bid to become European Cultural Capital City in 2018. What a powerful opportunity exists to embark on meaningful and sweeping cultural change.

The existing belief:

“We’ve already studied this issue!” We’ve had a research team and they provided us with their findings.” “We’re opening an international or expat desk at city hall. We’ve heard you. We’re moving forward.”

The reality:

It is very different. Being a member of the expat community here, one hears the deeper, underlying issues. This is not solely ‘anecdotal’ (gossip). There are serious disconnects, gaps that have to do with many criteria. But an overwhelming consensus from the expat, or international, residents is that Maastricht culture is not ‘embracing’. Once you’ve had your dinner out, picked your kid up from a good international school, seen a wonderful exhibit, heard André Rieu, you’re alone with only the other internationals. Maastricht and the region open only so far. Basically it is a tourist-oriented society. Actions speak louder than words and they say: “You are welcome to use our wonderful resources but please don’t expect to become a meaningful part of our society.” Hang out the “closed” sign.

Charles Landry, the world-renowned author and expert on creating Creative Cities, (places where diversity is truly embraced, welcomed and integrated into the existing culture), was in Maastricht last week as keynote of the Creativity and Innovation Conference. Landry notes that it is not enough to have nice cafés, museums, galleries, shopping, educational systems, parks, transportation, etc. Not enough. Rather, there must be leadership that guides meaningful change. Leadership that helps the public sector, businesses, educational institutions, NGOs, not-for-profits, etc., become themselves the change agents - change agents that understand that it is essential not only to attract but also to keep talent and diversity. To do so, like the City of Liverpool has shown, the public and private sector must find ways to meaningfully integrate this vast pool of ‘outsiders’, (a terrible Dutch word for those not inside the mainstream culture, buitenlanders.)

What’s at stake?

Everything. People who come here from other places leave. They tell others, “Oh, it’s a gorgeous area but too hard to integrate. Forget it!” Even the university students leave. We know that shrinkage is a future threat to cities. Bringing in internationals can and will help areas combat this imminent scenario.

Local businesses depend upon talent from around the globe. Local businesses need these highly educated guest workers to embrace and enjoy their experiences working, living and playing in the Maastricht region. Even the term guest worker brings up another time when less educated individuals were invited to do the work that no one else wanted to, then, once they completed their ‘assignments’ they were hung out to dry – left to fend for themselves. Not nice.

On the surface, this stunning area of the world seems ideal and idyllic. Lovely natural surroundings, interesting and comfortable housing, international schools for the children, a location that permits relatively easy access to everywhere in the world, nice cultural institutions, excellent accommodations and culinary establishments, fairs, festivals…. What else could anyone ask for?

Audience, audience, audience!

“We already know everything”, said one member of a planning team recently looking at the expat problem. “All we have to do is showcase, market, and promote our assets as listed above. The employers already know what their expats want.” This is precisely the thinking that keeps the problem encapsulated in its tight, shiny little bubble. The problem is, as we have seen with the economic crisis, eventually all bubbles burst.

Ask the expats what works, what doesn’t and why? Ask them in multiple ways. Hold “World Café” style forums all around the region. Have individual companies do this and prepare their findings. Convene “Open World Café” forums for those who live here but don’t work for the big companies. Hire the people from Maastricht University to facilitate them. They have excellent teams of facilitators working with young, bright professors in the business school and faculty.

Make the research a public relations effort in itself. Be visible. Show the expat community you care. Meet, tell stories, and integrate your talented ‘guest workers’ truly into the society here.

Expats are essential ingredients to a viable Maastricht region economy and cultural capital endeavor. They are audience and stakeholder. They represent an opportunity to open a society that is attractive but closed.

Communicate, communicate, communicate

Expats hear nothing from the leadership. An expat forum was held almost two years ago. The results were published but in very limited quantities. Public engagement means engaging the public in two–way conversations and publicizing the results. Communication is NOT A ONE TIME EVENT!

Begin an English language section in all relevant media. Employers could advertise to support this. Stores, cafés, restaurants could also advertise their goods in English to attract expat shoppers. Use the newspapers, brochures, and signage as ways to keep the dialogue flowing. Expats who stay on will learn the local language, but until they do, it is a responsibility to help them.

Show leadership

Someone has to take the lead in this. What is everyone afraid of? The entire community will sink or swim if something isn’t done to address how badly the expat situation is being handled.

Hold a creative strategic session with a neutral facilitator to help you figure out who should do what, when and why and with what resources. Divide up the tasks. But, please, do something.

About the author:

Drs. Susan Schaefer, APR, guides clients to seek answers in unexpected places. Certified as a facilitator from the MIT-Harvard Public Disputes Program, accredited in public relations (APR), with dual Masters’ Degrees in English Linguistics and European Public Affairs, Schaefer brings dynamic perspective to client work. The former newspaper publisher and editor, and active university professor and writer, has over 30 years experience providing counsel to government, business, NGO and not-for-profit leaders from such fields as higher education, banking, environment, architecture, engineering, finance, and law. Schaefer has received numerous professional honors, including the highest tribute in the United States’ public relations field, the Silver Anvil Award of Excellence, and the Diamond Achievement Award in Humanities from Temple University, Philadelphia, Pennsylvania, which acknowledges intellectual achievement and the integration of a liberal education with social responsibility.

In September I hosted a reunion of my Masters in European Public Affairs class. We spent a weekend together. Pure bliss!

Here, in my Aunt Sybil's most enchanting garden sits my mother-in-law, Geri, enjoying a cup of coffee. 

My friend Sandra is now the executive director of the Netherlands Breast Cancer Society. Here we are at a pink ribbon event in Maastricht.

A new friend, Uli, gave me a tour of neighboring city, Aachen, Germany

Remembering the first man in my life - dad

It would be his 106 birthday, my dad. Born at the dawn of the auto age, he was car crazy. Jack Schaefer, urban cowboy, was a modern dedicated father before there the concept existed. He raised me, his only daughter, alone. My mom was a victim of post-partum depression before there was a word for that, too. He took care of us both.

I always light a candle the eve of the anniversary of his birth.

Creative friends make good 'copy'

Another Crossroads article makes nice reading. Please click Crossroads to read my latest story on The Art Makers: Intentional Maastricht transplants, and dear friends Barbara Greenberg and Pawel Kromholz, who make art and ambience in this remote corner of the world.

The Reawakening: My Rosh Hashanah Story

I have reawakened from the depression of my grief. A friend told me to sound out the word, depressed, indeed, it sounds like 'deep rest'. I awake filled with my great loss, but now I am back in the world of feeling. There aren't proper words to thank everyone who walked by me during the dark year after Martijn's departure from this realm. So I say deeply, truly: "Thank You." Thank you for simply being there for me. I understand now how deep I sank and how much each of you supported me. Among you is a special friend, one I made recently in Maastricht, Sueli Brodin, who among her other talents and obligations, edits our local online 'expats' magazine, Crossroads. I have reproduced here my reflection about being an American Jew in Maastricht. Please link to the original at Crossroads, or please read on here.

A birthday apple for the world: Reflections of a Maastricht Jewish American on Rosh Hashanah and “The Days of Awe”

by Susan Schaefer

September 20, 2009

Faith is much better than belief. Belief is when someone else does the thinking for us.

-R. Buckminster Fuller

The advent of the autumn new moon marks Rosh Hashanah, which this year is 5770 of the Jewish calendar, and began at sundown on Friday, September 18, 2009, in the common era calendar. Rosh Hashanah starts the “the Days of Awe,” the most sacred ten day period in the Jewish year, ending with “the Day of Atonement”, Yom Kippur, a day of prayer, fasting and solemn contemplation. The period is a time when Jews reflect on the activities and behavior of the past year, questing to continuously develop as better individuals in the future, and seeking forgiveness for transgressions, not only from God, but also from one another, and not solely for ourselves, but also for the collective sins of our community.

Like so much of the Jewish culture – this idea of community is essential. Prayer and reflection are typically practiced in community in a temple or synagogue. I was raised in more secular household where Jewish traditions, rites and rituals were principally practiced in the home. The need to attend ‘services’ in a synagogue was not a cornerstone of my upbringing. Yet, like many modern Christians who only attend church for their high holidays of Easter and Christmas, I, too, enjoyed the rituals of these High Holidays as practiced in a synagogue.

Unfortunately, in Maastricht there isn’t a liberal or reform synagogue to attend. Here, the small Jewish community is rooted in an orthodox practice with which I don’t identify. Given the devastation of all European Jewry in the Holocaust, having even a small congregation of Jews is significant.


Synagogue in Maastricht, photo by Herman Pijpers

Nevertheless, I personally find it more comfortable to keep my faith in my own way. And so, I offer this reflection for others who also find themselves without the fellowship of their particular community at this sweet time of year so that they remember that faith can always be found within oneself, can be accessed at will, anytime and anywhere.

***

Rosh Hashanah is also referred to as “the birthday of the world,” a time when we ask to be inscribed in “the book of life”. In general, food and music are the arteries for the heart of a Jew, and the apple is deeply associated with our New Year. It is a tradition to dip the apple in honey to remind us of the sweetness of life at this time of year.

When I miss the opportunity to be with community to celebrate, I choose a few alternatives that encompass the spirit of the occasion. First, I listen to an incredible CD recording entitled, “The Birthday of the World: The Liturgy and Music of Rosh Hashanah”, narrated by Leonard Nimoy with astounding music. (Yes, Star Trek’s own Mr. Spock is a Jewish Vulcan, oh vey!)

After listening to the liturgy and music, I typically try to commune with nature. Nature is my concept of God’s cathedral, and in nature I am better able to think about my Judaism, my life and my wishes for the new year to come. One year, I found this nature in my own front yard – in my apple tree.

This apple tree had rarely been appreciated or eaten of. A city girl by upbringing, having a yard and trees was an entirely new experience. However, I found myself deeply drawn to touch my tree, to take from it the sweet burden of its fruit. And in the act of tending my tree I came to myself. Relieving the tree of its offering – apple by apple – I also found myself growing lighter. This act of quiet, deliberateness drained from me the weight of the day-to-day burdens we all carry. Both the tree and I grew lighter and this “mindful” activity seemed in keeping with the spirit of Rosh Hashanah – a time to stop normal activity, to reflect.


Another remarkable thing happened while I pulled and twisted the ripe, meaty fruit from its source. I found myself harmoniously in the midst of something I otherwise fear – bees. Dozens of bees had discovered the sweet sustenance of decaying fruit that had already fallen. In order for me to harvest my share, I had to work in their company. Typically, I am afraid of these honey-making, stinging creatures. Yet, for no reason at all, I felt quite safe, somehow knowing that they were merely going about their business and would leave me to mine. So, a second miracle accompanied the act of picking my tree – I worked securely with my own fear.

The third small grace to befall me, for surely all holy enlightenments happen in threes, was my sudden ability to tend only what needed to be tended at the moment. By nature, I am a bit of an overachiever. My desk is littered with five to twelve projects and in my profession as a communications consultant, I’m frequently interrupted, even when I do manage to be working on only one project. Phone calls, e-mails, colleagues, and my own thoughts are constant barriers to “being here now”. Suddenly, picking these “lowly” apples, I felt no need to do anything else. I was content quietly circling the tree, methodically finishing one area before moving to the next. It felt like a clear metaphor for beginning my new year in more balance and contentment.

And so, I came to my new year with a sermon of self, spun from the branches of a tree of life.

Now, at this time of year, I remember to perform a mindful act each day, fully aware of the moment, and in so doing, relieve a burden or two from this hectic life of hyper-drive. I try to acknowledge and honor my fears and learn to work with them, rather than waging hopeless battles against them. And, finally, I attempt to see the beauty and necessity of performing one thing at a time, leaving juggling to the talented acrobats of those charming European circuses that have gained such recent popularity.

Vaeshartelt Castle, photo by Herman Pijpers

Maastricht offers astounding nature almost within her city boundaries. Limburg is graced with a contemplative beauty that allows one to find sustenance in God’s outdoor sanctuary. Community, indeed is where we create it. If each of us carries the spirit of our faith every day, practicing it year-round, we can find sanctuary in the heart of each human being, each element of nature, remembering that it is not where you are, but who you are that inscribes us in the book of life. I wish for everyone everywhere in the world, a sweet “New Year”.

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.

Spirit Speak

Martijn and I sit happily in front of our window in the Seward neighborhood of Minneapolis, Minnesota, the community we so sadly departed to relocate here to Maastricht, the Netherlands. We were interviewed for an article in October 1999, ten years ago, focusing on how many homeowners were converting their duplex homes (homes made into a main residence plus a rental unit) into home businesses. 

Scrolling through the files of our local online expat newspaper, Crossroads, I came across this photo of Martijn (left) attending the speech by Jeremy Rifkin who spoke at the 2007 Schuman Lecture, hosted by the Univeristy of Maastricht, on May 9th.

My life is beginning to be busier, filled with some small work projects, slightly more social events, work on my various creative projects, and Dutch lessons. Sitting at my desk doing my Dutch homework, using Martijn's lovely dictionaries and finding corrections and notes from him brought tears of loss to my eyes. As always during these moments of pain, moments of feeling the intense sense of loss of his company and love, I pray for a sign...I ask where in world he may be. I ask if he's still with me, still in me, still protecting me and caring for me as he always did. And time after time when I ask for such impossible reassurance come signs, small messages of love beyond time and space.

Yesterday, while searching for a phone number in an old personal phone book I found the clipping from the Seward Profile newspaper at the top of this posting. Relaxed and happy, as always with Martijn's strong arm around my shoulder, I took time to remember just how full and good our life was. A stolen moment, a stolen memory, a voice from beyond time and space?

And then, this morning, slogging through my Dutch homework, I felt compelled to take a short break. Cruising through my Crossroads online news I was shocked when I found Martijn's lovely profile as he listened to the Jeremy Rifkin lecture. In May 2007 we already knew about the cancer, yet we continued to live a full and good life - interested in our world.

I now try to keep that fullness, I try to reincorporate that goodness, I try to come alive for both of us.

Yeah, yeah, yeah

Step up for the Mystery Tour, Susan near Penny Lane and Strawberry Fields.

Since the minute I saw the four "mop heads" in black and white on our little telly screen I have wanted to see where the Beatles were born, lived, grew up and made music. Last week I did just that. 

Old buddy Barbara Craig flew into Amsterdam. We spent two great days with Herman and Ton taking in the sights, then off to our Liverpool Adventure - four nights at the Hard Day's Night Hotel right in the centre of swinging Liverpool.

John lives! No, your eyes don't deceive. Lennon look-alike, Alastair Trew with his lovely wife, Sam, spice up the atmosphere at the hotel. We got to hang out for an evening with these two luvlies, and you can bet your boots, when you walk into the Cavern with this pair, all dolled up to look just like the real McCoys, heads turn and cameras flash. Simply fab!

Commemorate

Fourteen years ago today I arrived at Amsterdam's Schiphol airport. Within an hour of arriving I met Martijn. This morning I picked up one of my longest-term best friends, Barbara Craig, at Schiphol airport. Within an hour we were met by Ton Schaap and Herman Rouw, two of the men who became close friends through Martijn. By coicidence exactly 14 years to the day, I am staying a stone's throw from where my romance and one of my most important professional projects began. Bridges of friendship reaching beyond time and space have been built. Circles of life gently turn.

Memories, memorials, movement

In Memory of the Valor and the Sacrifices which Hallow this Soil

reads the stunning monument directly behind me at the American Cemetery at Margraten, the Netherlands, a short drive outside of Maastricht. It was to this still and truly holy place that Martijn took each of our guests without exception. And on Memorial Day Sunday, May 24, 2009, I was privilieged to be the invited guest of Democrats Abroad to witness the stirring ceremony that each year marks the gratitude of the liberated European for their American liberators.

Dutch vetrans honor the 8301 known fallen American comrades and the 1722 MIAs.

The reflecting pond at the entrance of the cemetery

On the trail from Maastricht to Eijsden a wildlife area features wild ponies. Friday, May 29, 2009.

My life has been filled with memories, memorials and movement. I now walk twice a week along the lovely River Maas towards the village of Eijsden. I'm now up to 5 miles. The movement helps put my memories of Martijn into a perspective. We loved this walk, although Martijn's favorite was on the opposing bank of the river which is wilder and less used. 

The days here have been mostly stunning - azure blue skies and mild temperatures. Soon I will begin with a bit of consulting work - the first in a long, long time. The spring has provided me a gentler backdrop for my grief, which continues to lodge deep in my soul. Missing Martijn sometimes becomes so visceral that I quake from the sense of loss. Mostly I propel myself forward into time and space for that is what MUST be done. But I've learned that only those with this same experience truly understand the how mystical this journey is. 

Rest In Peace

Frogs in love, Rotterdam 1995, photo taken by John Cuningham

Frogs dancing in the lily pond, created for Martijn's Memorial, Oostermaas Cemetery, Maastricht

The site is very peaceful. As Martijn wished, it is located directly adjacent to his grandparents final resting place, shown here to the left. The memorial is not quite complete - in the center of the circle an etched hand-blown circle of glass will contain the first photo taken of us and the wedding prayer from the Kabbalah that was our private theme: Two souls destined together...

In Memory of my Mother, Emma Schaefer

My mother, Emma, and me, in front of Steel Pier, Atlantic City, New Jersey

Summer 1952 - I was just two years old.

The following poem is from an collection entitled: Ride the New Morning, self published in 1983, Shepherd's Bush Press.

Emma

By chance I glanced at my reflection

and saw there – you.

I’ve not noted you in my face before,

but I’ve felt you inhabit my thighs and belly

so round like yours,

and at times my woman smell recalls

images of you and me together in

our claw-footed tub,

me so small next to your Boticellian swells

ripe in womanhood.

And in my bathroom now with

its claw footed tub

hangs our Atlantic City portrait –

you, Romanian, really, gypsy-looking

and me in the 50s sailor suit

posed in an-honest-to-God

paper moon.

 

Mommy

you were mommy

never mother

sometimes, ma

and so sadly

you were not all there,

not quite sane,

a little over ripe,

but a beauty in an aesthetic long departed.

And mostly you were mine,

though I never showed the love,

always called “daddy’s girl”…

but I loved, I love you still.

 

by Susan Schaefer ©1983 Ride the New Morning

Going Dutch

Café Zondag, Maastricht, ©2006 Susan Schaefer

Dutch life can be very very good. It follows a different pace, more liquidy and in harmony with being in the present moment than life in America. I've written extensively on the perceptions of my life here, but I must defer to a more skilled hand than mine to give you yet another perspective. The incredibly talented writer, Russell Shorto, has penned piece that captures Dutch Life through his unique lens. Please click on Going Dutch and sit back with a really good cup of coffee to enjoy. Martijn discovered Shorto when he read a review of his incredible history of the founding of Manhattan by the Dutch, entitled, Island at the Center of the World. Who could have imagined an historic epic to be so entertaining? What is better than to learn and savor simultaneously? Martijn devoured this wonderful book which he presented to me as a holiday gift. I have read and reread it. Shorto's writing is pure joy. He's a writer's writer and so the book became for me at once a guidepost to better understand many aspects of my adopted country while also providing a benchmark toward writing well.

Please read Going Dutch. You'll better understand my dilemma as I try to create my future life. Together with Martijn the choice to remain here seemed simple. My plans to bridge my own and the Dutch cultures seemed prudent. I continue to work towards a resolution that will allow me to build that bridge. Meanwhile, have a good read.

Cats, Hats, Friends, Family

Cat: See the kitty? Medieval house cat. Eupen, Belgium.

Hat/Friend: Ursula sits pretty on her Maastricht balcony.

Friends: Sandra, Maurice and children Brit and Levi on their Maastricht terrace.

Family: Me and Irma, my sister-in-law, at Wok Restaurant, Maastricht, celebrating Geri's 78th birthday.

Family: Mother Geri, brother-in-law, Janus and Marcel, in the backyard of our little 'cabin' in Lanaken, Belgium. 

Friend: Jacques finds a weed 'torch' to blast his weeds in a garden center in Berg en Terblijt, a village just outside Maastricht.

Each day a new beginning. It remains a task to move through life without Martijn. I schedule many activities in order to rise from bed and move forth. The house is so lonely. We were so affectionate - every day embraces, snuggles and hugs. Our affection touched also many others - friends and family. They were aware of our intimacy. The lack of this pure affection is like missing air, food and water. I can intellectually reconstruct my life, but for this loss there is no ready compensation.

There are some stirrings on the work front and I'm beginning to be able to envision a future life. But I'm very much in the present - aware, painfully aware sometimes, of the passage of time. 

Luckily, Maastricht is verdant green with outstanding weather and and long, light evenings which makes everything more bearable. Directly outside my floor to ceiling walls of windows the resident blackbird family cheers me. Martijn told me he would return as a blackbird with an orange beak, and morning, noon and night, there is that sleek winged messenger, mouth packed full of still wriggling worms, giving me hope of the continuum of our fragile existence. 

As these smiling faces show, I continue to be blessed by the presence of angels who masquerade on earth as humans. 

Queen's Day Tragedy

Pool photograph by Robin Utrecht

People lay injured after a car careened into a holiday parade that included Queen Beatrix 

and the royal family in the Dutch city of Apeldoorn on Thursday.

On a fleckless day reserved for a celebration unique in all the world, Queen's Day in the Netherlands, chaos replaced the cheering, and violence routed the celebration which commemorates the Queen's birthday. 

I had planned a funny little story to explain this quintessential Dutch holiday to my readers. It is a day when the entire Netherlands becomes one huge garage sale where everyone from 8 to 80 puts out their trash and treasures for others to purchase typically spending their gains buying  similar trash and treasure from a neighboring 'salesperson'. It's usually great fun with food, fireworks, and music, but today at least four people have been killed and dozens injured in a vicious attack intended on the Royal Family. Details are only just emerging. 

Dutch Royal Family

Unlike other royals, the Dutch Royals, headed by Queen Beatrix (middle in lavender) are quite down-to-earth. Although descended from the historic Orange Family, with a strong Protestant legacy, these royals are equally beloved in this tiny country from east to west, and north to south, which is strongly Catholic. Queen's Day is a national day off that occurs each April 30th, and this year offers a long holiday weekend with May 5th, Liberation Day, another holiday, falling on a Tuesday. For now the festive feeling is gone.  

Martijn was not a  big fan of this particular holiday, mostly shunning crowds and loud music. But like his compatriots, he was fond of the Dutch Royals since they represent the best of an antiquated system, using their power and influence to do much good across the country and beyond. On a day that should have been filled with mirth and merriment innocent bystanders are maimed and slaughtered. My heart goes out to the friends and families of those touched by this tragedy.

Nine Months

Monday morning, April 20, 2009. A lone duck ponders sunrise on the Jeker River that runs into the River Meuse (Maas). This spot is along the outermost of the city's old walls that frames a quaint park where we often walked.

It has been a very mixed week for me. I did not have any jet lag after returning from Florida and was able to quickly get back into a rhythm that included an early morning walk to the University of Maastricht's Business Faculty building where in I used to teach. Typically, there I would pick up the Wall Street Journal and Financial Times and chat with one of my favorite people - Karin Post, who worked the reception desk. Karin and I had promised to transform our informal morning chats into a lunch once we returned from our respective vacations. Monday, hoping to find her at her regular spot, instead I learned that Karin suffered a fatal heart attack while she was on holiday in Africa. The news impacted me hard - Karin had lost her husband years back and was one of those friends who knew what it meant to lose a beloved spouse. I grieve for her sons who are now without parents and for all who basked in her radiant good humor. I have lost a future friend and was deeply saddened.

Barbara Lukermann, Birchwood Cafe, Seward Neighborhood, Winter 2005

The news of the death of Karin Post followed the news of the death of my dear friend, Barbara Lukermann, who died in Minneapolis after her valiant struggle with cancer. I was so lucky to have Barbara in my life as a friend, mentor and colleague. She is legend in the field of Urban Planning and is widely recognized for her contributions to the Humphrey Institute, University of Minnesota, where her colleagues and students have honored her by naming a lounge center in her name. I will miss Barbara's gentle wisdom and friendship and offer my condolences to her family, friends, students and colleagues. A bright light has gone out. 

Marcel Winten and Geri Hermse Mullens, April 21, 2009, Eupen, Belgium

Tuesday Marcel and Geri kindly shuttled me to nearby Eupen, Belgium where my dear friend (and gynecologist) Christiane Schneider has her practice. As is always the way with Geri and Marcel, we made an outing of what turned out to be a glorious day. After my examination I treated them to a fine lunch in a lovely garden recommended by Christiane; then, we enjoyed window shopping and a drink on a terrace in front of Eupen's Cathedral (background).

Yesterday was Geri's 78th birthday and the day Martijn's monument was placed on his grave. We visited together making this heavy event easier for all of us. I prepared a very special dinner for Geri, and we dined by candlelight. I have grown increasingly close to my mother-in-law and her partner of 28 years, Marcel, and feel fortunate for this blessing.  

Tomorrow marks nine months since Martijn died. The time it takes to grow a fertilized egg into baby. Nine months brings forth life in human terms. My life is beginning to take on a new and different meaning. I'm so glad it's Spring. Sunday the entire family will come to celebrate mother's birthday. And, we will go to the cemetery together and honor our beloved husband, son, brother, brother-in-law, and uncle as one united unit. From death to life - then we will all go to a buffet in honor of mother's birthday. 

I decided to make a composite photo for mother which I had framed. The inset, the kiss, is from an outing last April, one of Martijn's last, to a small petting zoo in Born. The larger photo is from our first Christmas here and is taken in front of the Kasteel Hoensbroek. She was very moved by this gift.

Time of Healing

Susan and Cindy, Boca Raton, Florida, April 14, 2009

Typically vacation time flies by. This trip was different. Time seemed to go at its appointed pace, neither too fast nor slow. My stay at Cindy's was balm for my soul. Her home is a place where Martijn and I stayed each year for almost 12 years. But I've know Cindy for over 35 years, so I have had memories from a time before my marriage. This factored into making this a trip of healing for me. It was the first time since Martijn's death that I've felt so relaxed, so in my own skin. Much of this was due to Cindy's generosity and pure friendship. Each morning while she worked, I had time to spend alone - walking to our beloved Light House Point, wandering along the beach, sitting and watching the sea, swimming in her pool - all the time reflecting how happy these simple activities made Martijn, and how happy they make me. Cindy kept me busy in the afternoons with little trips and visits and fun dinners out. Our schedule was perfect and for me, stress-less, as Cindy did all the planning and driving. As a plus, I met a wonderful new friend who is originally from the Netherlands, Ineke Wolfs, who kindly drove me to the airport on my departure day. And, I had time to spend a little more time with her neighbors, Barbara and Michael, who are salt of the earth individuals. So, once again, through friendship and caring I am ushered into the springtime of my mourning, able to enjoy the tender green leaves and colorful sprouts, even through my occasional tears.

Birthday Awakening

Me and Cindy, my birthday, Palm Beach, Florida, April 5, 2009

This is my third journey to the United States since Martijn passed away. I wanted to pass my birthday in the company of my dear friend, Cindy Serano, for multiple reasons. Cindy is one of the warmest most authentic people I know. She lives 'inside her skin' - open and giving. Her warmth is legendary amongst her friends who bask in its glow. I do not exaggerate - and therefore I feel most fortunate to be counted amongst her long-time, good friends.

Cindy's home is where Martijn and spent our honeymoon 13 years ago just after Valentine's Day. And, year after year her chosen spot in south Florida is where we pilgrimaged, incorporating our family with hers.

Vince, Cindy, Me and Martijn February 2005, Fairchild Botanical Garden, Coral Gables, Florida, Dale Chihuly exhibit

Once Cindy met my beloved Aunt Ada, she welcomed Ada into the life of her cherished elders - her mother and Aunt Evelyn. On one of our many trips here, we brought Martijn's mother, Geri and Marcel. That trip remains one of my most cherished times here. We stayed in a penthouse apartment overlooking Pompano Beach's spectacular Light House Cove, with its pristine expanse of turquoise water and fine white sand. During that trip we introduced Cindy's family and mine to my in-laws, meshing circles in a most loving and natural way - my favorite pastime. 

Me and dear Aunt Ada, Cindy's Patio, Pompano Beach

And there's more. Cindy sadly understands all too well what I'm currently experiencing. Twenty-five years ago her beloved husband and my beloved friend, Michael, died in a tragic accident, leaving her a young widow with an eight-year-old son, Andy. Michael Serano was my first friend to die. The impact of his death has stayed with me all these years. Now, I am united with Cindy in an unenviable pact - "the sisterhood of those who have lost that which is most dear". 

Cindy created a happy day for me. We spent the night before with dear old friends, Elise and Andy Charne, for a Chinese dinner. My birthday was spent in the company of Billy Tyson and his wife, Eddie, dear dear friends for over 30 years, who hosted us for a brunch on their balcony overlooking Palm Beach. Later in the day we joined Michael and Barbara, Cindy's neighbors who have become great friends over the these many years, for a sunset on Pompano Beach.

Elise and Andy

Bill, Eddie and Cindy

Michael and Barbara

I was graced with birthday greetings from friends everywhere, helping me through this first post-Martijn event. And, with the warm southern Florida winds beneath my wings, I see glimmers of my future unfolding. Only those with a special understanding of loss and letting go can truly 'know' how difficult it is to see such a future. All of the zen quotes and wisdom of letting go and being in the present don't really contribute to this giant step. Each individual must arrive there at her/his own time. Grief therapists understand that this 'embracing the future' means, in fact, a second sense of loss. Another shock. But, in the embrace of so many friends, that shock is lessened and the future beckons. Thank you for this gift, dear friends.