Gert Roos

Gert Roos 

24 December 1953 - 29 March 2017

Today is for my dear friend Gert Roos.

I am honoured to have had the friendship of this beautiful man for 33 years.

Gert Roos 

24 December 1953 - 29 March 2017

Gert is being laid to rest today in Bloemdaal (Holland)

Peace be with you and with your family, 

especially Marga, Guus and Hanna

and all your friends.

Much love

Corina

poem by Lao Tse
on Gert's card

Drawing made in memory of Gert by SNAB

I met Gert in 1984 when we both started working at a newly establised group home for people with leanring difficulties, then called 'Het Wad', in Haarlem (Holland). Our close connection was quickly established, and never faded. Even though I left Holland five years later.

We remained in touch via letters, phone calls, and visits at their house or here in Ireland. But there was also a connecting which did not need normal forms of communication. A spiritual connection. 

Which I feel is still here, even after his untimely passing last week.

Some memories of Gert Roos
with his daughter Hanna, and wife Marga in their garden last September;
Eating the Dutch 'kroket' in Haarlem;
A photo from ten years ago, when Gert and Marga got dressed up
for a seventies party- large glasses over his own;
We were getting ready for the group-home cycle holiday and Gert
took out the broken bicycles on the day we were to leave,
'scaring' the parents;
And Gert and myself at a campsite, the last day I spend time with him
and day of our last hug.

Over the past two years since Gert became ill, Mariela and I travelled to Holland to spend time with Gert and Marga. I am so glad that it was possible to make these journeys. It saddends me to no end, that I am not there today to share his last journey with all those who love him.

For the last visit I had gathered some images of the time we worked together. These always made us laugh. There are so many stories. They bring a smile to my face even when I write on this sad day.
And yet my heart is crying. That same day we shared the sadness of his ailing health. A mixed bag of emotions.
Since that last visit we stayed in touch via the phone, and via many messages, sharing funny memories, beautiful memories, music we like at this moment, photographs, stories, sadness, heartbreak, encouragements, understanding and gratitude.

I am so pleased that Gert decided to ring me on my birthday, 19 days before he passed away. I had not heard his voice for a few months. I am glad that he rang when he did, as I was almost out the door for my hospital appointment. I would have missed his call.

For the past while, but especially since the news of his passing last week, a piece of music, a word on the radio, an add on the telly, a plant on my garden,...  all bring stories in my mind of the friendship we shared.

Today Mariela and I will be at the funeral, but here in Ireland. We will go to the cathedral, which I know had a special place in Gert's heart, and celebrate his life well lived during a lunch afterwards.

MEme, my little penguin will be my 'aide-de-camp'.  My brother Hans, and friend Christine will be at the funeral in Holland too.

A sad day.
But I am grateful to have had his companisonship, his guidance, his frienships, support, encouragement and love for all those years.

Rest Easy Gert

our shared love of music
I have this note in the CD case for
maybe 15 years?
I listened to this often over the past while,
and after hearing the sad news.
("Dear Corien, Enjoy the Fado from Misia. I am entralled by it.
I experience it as a positive melancholy.
I wonder what you think of it.
Kis, Gert)

Tears

It is such a secret place, the land of tears.

Antoine de Saint-Exupére - The Little Prince

At times 

there is 

nothing left 

but to 

enter 

the land 

of tears

Alone 

It is with great sadness that I learned of the passing of my beautiful dear friend Gert Roos.

Gert, Marga, Guus and Hanna are firmly rooted in my heart.

I will tell you more about Gert, whom I had the privilege of knowing for over 33 years, 

on an other day.

It is essential to give yourself time to grieve

Today I was gong to write about acceptance and re-emerging from a dark place into the light. This thought was prompted by a (message) conversation I had with one of my readers.
But as I woke up with a heavy heart, I decided to write about what comes before re-emerging ... giving yourself time to grieve.

I woke this morning with a heavy heart.
Observing the pain, I felt that the base of it is the heart-ache of missing my beloved cat Robert who passed away a week ago.

Grieving: 

Feeling intense sorrow

from Latin gravare, gravis

Heavy, Grave*

Robert and I had such a routine build up.
In the morning he would lie on the right side of my bed to "hunt" for my toes. Always the right, never the left. Then he'd lie on his back, his head cuddled up to my chest. When I sit up on the bed and he'd circle around me, always anti-clockwise. Giving me 'kissses' when he come to the front of me. Little head-butts and a lick on my forehead or cheek. Three or four times, as if he was building a protective wall around me for the day.

As soon as I have one toe on the floor, his priorities changed from loving to needing... FOOD!!!

Every day during the past week, I see, feel, and hear his presence, and yet he is not here.
Receiving a package in the post yesterday, I was left with an empty box and no cat to climb into it. An empty yoghurt tub which has to be rinsed out, in stead of licked clean. I open the front door, but he is not on the doormat. In stead I see his grave.  (grieving- grave).

It breaks my heart that his life came to an abrupt end. And yet, I somehow knew that is was coming. Although he was not seriously ill, I felt that he was not himself either. The last few nights I'd have a chat with Robert and said that if he had to pass on, it is ok. I am ok. And thanked him for all the years we have spend together. He was diagnosed with diabetes on the day he died, but died probably of heart attack. It was heart breaking to watch his last struggles for breath. The Vet kindly came over to help him go to his eternal sleep.
I am grateful I was connected with Robert to make the call to have him at home, on his drip, and not have him alone - lonely at the Vet's - a place that would bring him fear.

I realize that I am good at putting things in perspective. To deal with what I have to deal with. To not get overwhelmed with emotions. To stay strong. But then the  - Grieve - Feeling intense sorrow - hit me this morning.

While writing these last few words, I could barely swallow the lump in my throat. And the tears are flowing.  The voice-recognition software does not recognize my voice when upset... so have to write with my fingers...

I know that lump is not just about Robert. It is about the challenges that illness, and life in general brings too.

At times 

illness makes 

you feel cheated 

out of life *

Grieving how meetings with friends are often dictated by my body's demands. Grieving about being a lot of the time on my own. The missing of taking part in society the way I would like to. Yet, I know I am quite content to follow my own simple routine in my beautiful and peaceful surroundings.
Sorrow that I am not able to be as a good a friend to my friends as they are to me. I give them time and a listening ear, but can't do much in practical terms. Grieving about people lost in my life, and those who are very ill and I can't be with. 
Reading my own words from Into the Light, I know that

It is

essential 

to allow yourself

 to grieve* 

I know that my sorrow will pass.
I know.
I have been there before.
It just hit me right in my heart this morning.

For now I will go underground, and soon I will write about how I do emerge back into the light again, armed with the wisdom from the earth.

Leaving you with a few words of wisdom from the amazing Peter Cornish from Dzogchen Beara:

Desire is the weather that stirs up this climate of pain.

It’s the wind on which we sail our ship into the ocean of sorrow.

Peter Cornish - Dazzled by Daylight *

* All quotes from a page of Into the Light  available from my WEB SHOP

Be Well my friends,

and Thank You for joining me on my journey.