By way of introduction, here’s the text of my June 1, 2001 letter to my family. - Sense

We all remember my cousin Geurt. He was a son of our Oom Reinder and Tante Anne van der Molen who, in my youth, were the house parents of a Christian Military Home in Groningen, the Netherlands. Tante Anne was a sister of my mother, Hebowina de Jong (nee Blokzijl). Geurt was a special child; so was his sister Truus. Both were mentally challenged from birth, especially Geurt. Following their parents’ death, they lived for a while alone in an apartment in Groningen. We found that amazing! They were supervised by Geurt’s brother, Sense van der Molen , a thriving business man in Groningen "Stad" (City).

What follows is the moving article about Geurt’s passing into glory with Jesus during the fall of 2000. That article touched me deeply, hence the translation. It was written by Corry van der Molen – Sijbolts, the wife of another Sense, Geurt’s nephew. It was originally published in a Dutch church paper and many people have been wanting to read it after it appeared.

I visited Geurt at "Nieuw Woelwijck" (an institution for mentally/ physically challenged patients) shortly after my father’s death in 1982. He immediately recognized me, even though we hadn’t seen each other for some 20 years. "Sense, Sense," he shouted and pulled one of his famous crazy faces. After a while, I asked him, "Where’s Pa, Geurt?" (Where’s Opa de Jong?) He said, "Bie Jezus, bie Jezus," and pointed his pipe upwards. How we remember Geurt sitting in the dining room, installing a "doekie" in front of him, precisely arranging his fork, knife and plate, and then folding his hands. If it wasn’t quiet, he’d say: "Stil weezn, even bidden, heur." (Please be quiet now, time to pray).

P.S. Corry van der Molen - Sybolts has given me permission to translate her story in the English language. She also consented to my translating her story into the Groninger dialect. As such, it was published on www.dideldom.com under my pseudonym Jan Prak - Sense

**********************************************

LORD, WATCH OVER US ALSO THIS NIGHT...

by Corry van der Molen - Sijbolts
(translated by Sense de Jong)

Late August 2000 we are telephoned. It's not going well with Geurt. His prostate cancer has spread and he will go from bad to worse as time goes on. Geurt is our uncle and mentally handicapped. The last 20 years he has lived in "Nieuw Woelwijck", a housing community in Hoogezand/Sappemeer.

Geurt was born eighty years ago in Zuidlaren, but he spent most of his life in the city of Groningen. As I become part of the family van der Molen, they tell me that Geurt is mentally challenged. I hear vague stories that something went awry during his birth, that the "Engelse ziekte" (rachitis/rickets) might have been the cause. Geurt is not a normal person: you notice that immediately when you see and hear him. He talks very little and uses a few fixed expressions like "vrouwluu" (women) and "bist jaloers" (you're jealous). Geurt is a wanderer, has a talk with people then here, then there. Always with his little pipe which he is forever trying to lit when he’s on the road. Not when he is working in the shop. There he attaches clothes-pins to little cards.

I find him a bit creepy. But then I have no experience with people like him. My husband and his sisters are totally relaxed with him and love him dearly. I need to learn this. I get plenty of time to do so. More than thirty years.

Geurt and his sister Truus (she is also mentally handicapped, but less so) are present at each birthday, every holiday and all important family events. They just belong. My father-in-law (Sense van der Molen-sdj) looks after them after their parents passed away. And it will be our turn when our parents-in-law cannot do it any longer.

Geurt's already been at "Nieuw Woelwijck" about twenty years. It bothers my father-in-law that Geurt, who grew up in a Reformed home, has to live in a "non-christian" institution. He asks the consistory of the Reformed Church in Hoogezand to pay some attention to Geurt, but that congregation never reacts. Geurt has to be content with "Nieuw Woelwijck."

He flourishes in that home. At age 60 he becomes friends with many men and women. Certain tasks are assigned to him, something is expected from him. He enjoys the outdoors, the animals and the love he receives. He knows his companions by name, he has a friend he does crafts with and meets a female friend over coffee.

He goes on a vacation. They erect a tent in the garden and he and his friends are allowed to spend a night there. They climb on a covered wagon and make trips through Drenthe. "Nieuw Woelwijck" is good at doing these kinds of things, it pays attention to all kinds of feasts and makes something special out of them.

It may not be a "christian" home, but we definitely experience it as a christian atmosphere. Full of love and respect, honest. Geurt is doing just fine as he is and he feels this. In his room he enjoys his little pipe and his organ on which he plays his favourite song, "Rosa, Rosa, bloemen op je hoed" (Rosa, Rosa, flowers on your hat).
We visit him regularly, wish we would do so more often, but we're always so busy with our own things. But when we come, we are welcome and belong.

Geurt lies on a bed in his room. Around him are his friends and girlfriends and a few toy animals he fumbles with all day. His health is failing, he cries when we leave. It's as though he understands that what ails him is not just a cold. It's a different way of being sick. We sing some familiar songs with him when we come. We ask: " Where are your dad and mom?" His answer, "Bie Jezus" (with the Lord) is always the same.

Geurt dies during the feast of "Sinterklaas" (St. Nicholas). Between the parcels, very quietly , just like that. He's still in bed when we arrive. After he's laid out in a coffin his fellow residents, washed and clean, arrive and stand around it. "Mooi kistje" (nice coffin) one says, and knocks on the wood. Another caresses Geurt's cheek. They are bidding Geurt farewell and they sing together. "Ik ga slapen, ik ben moe, 'k sluit mijn beide oogjes toe. Here houdt ook deze - lange - nacht over Geurt getrouw de wacht" (I'm going to sleep, I'm so tired, I'm closing my little eyes. Lord, also in this - long - night, faithfully keep watch over Geurt). Deeply moving, beautiful and warmly loving. They stand there waving when the car leaves.

Bells are ringing when we arrive for the funeral. Residents from the entire community walk arm in arm , or are driven, to the large hall where the farewell service will take place. They all carry a rose which they place on the coffin. The service starts with Gabriel Faure's "Requiem," but that is immediately followed by "Daar bij die molen" (a Dutch fun song). Then we sing "Rosa" en "Mien Toentje" (songs by Ede Staal, well-known to Geurt), and this is followed by "God heb ik lief" (I love the Lord - a Dutch psalm). It's just a medley of songs well known to the residents, including Geurt. Just for him there's a special song by Liane Abeln, "Grunnen, mien stad" (Groningen, my city), which focuses on the Martini tower.

There are stories: from family, from his companions. "Laat de kinderen tot Mij komen" (let the children come unto Me) is being read. One reading follows another. It is so moving. Nothing "crazy" about it. All those who are able stand during the singing of "'t Grunnens laid" (the anthem of the province of Groningen). A cousin whispers in my ear: we don't stand for the Lord, but we do for the anthem....

The coffin is carried away on the melody of "Stille nacht, heilige nacht" (Silent night, holy night) and I can't believe my ears. Never have I experienced hearing that song in that way. Speakers- installed along the way outside- continue to play the music and , once more, each resident comes forward to place a rose on the coffin inside the car.

Later, a smaller group of family and friends come to the grave where Geurt is buried. His friend from crafts class prays, in his unique way, the Lord's Prayer: "Onze Vader, die in de hemelen zijt" (Our Father Who art in heaven). Geurt is no longer with us alive, but he has an indelible place in our family history. He will always be remembered.