10 years ago my Beppe left me. It was one of the hardest days of my life. She was my mentor, friend and confidant.
Growing up as a child there was no better place to be than at Pakke and Beppes house a small wartime house in Kingston with huge (at least to me) gardens in the front and back. Hours were spent just talking or watching the world grow. My grandfather was a gardener and nothing gave him more pleasure than bringing flowers to my Beppe. He loved her so very much as did I. The day he died he took me out to the gardens that were bare awaiting winter to cover them in deep snow. He looked at the house and then at me and said "if something happens to me you'll look after her until I can come to get her again". I was 13 and confused but of course agreed. 4 hours later we got the call that he had passed on a massive heart attack that happened to him on the couch sitting with the woman he had loved and cherished for 55 years.
We were both devestated and clung to each other in the dark days that followed.
As time went on so I grew always looking for her love and approval in my life.
When I got my drivers license she was the first person I chaffeured to town for lunch to celebrate. When she turned 8o we had our birthdays together (being born one day apart), when Daryl and I got engaged it was to see Beppe first to recieve her blessing on us both. Our wedding was planned carefully so that she could be a part of it -we held a small reception at the nursing home with the entire wedding party so pictures with Beppe could be a part of my day. When I found out I was going to be a mom (miracle beyond all else) she was the first to know. When Jared arrived safe and sound after a rough delivery she was the first person we took him to visit -her look of delight and joy at that little perfect life nested in her arms was more joy than I could ever know.
Three months to the day after Jared arrived she left me. I said goodbye to her that afternoon -she told me to go home and not come back. I knew she didn't want me to see her suffer and wanted it to be easier for me to deal with. My mother tells me she looked to the end of the bed and smiled and then left this world peacefully. I have no doubt in my mind that my Pakke was waiting there arm outstretched to take her to her final home so they could be together again.
I promised her I would not cry when she is gone -I cannot always keep that promise but I try to remember all the joy we shared together. When my daughter was born there was no other choice for her names Lindsay Gertrude named for her daddy and for the woman who ment so much to me. May Lindsay grow to be as beautiful and strong a woman as her great grandmother.
So 10 years later I take this time to share with you my grandmother Gertrude Jansen,
born September 12, 1902 -died July 16th 1998 at the age of 92. A truer lady there never was.
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