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Autumn 1966
a Season of Sad Change

October 1966
Pure bliss and happiness
my brother and I
creating lakes and dams and waterfalls
in the little brook
meant for farmers to cool their milk-cans in
We could play there for hours and hours
getting all muddy and wet
feeling mighty engineers
once the water got so high
it splashed over the rim.
But the greatest joy
came from breaking the dam
feeling the power of the surge of the water
as it sought its way through the narrow hole
back to its freedom!
My brother was nine and I was twelve
In 1966.
We were celebrating our Autumn Vacation
with our Grandfather Opa Frits in Limburg
the most southern province of Holland.

We took little trips
through the hilly surroundings of Limburg
and Belgium
Spa, Lac de Dix, Dinant, Han...
The weather was fine,
fresh autumn mornings, warm, sunny days, filled with joy...
They meant so much to us
we experienced so much, learnt so much, played so much.
We felt so great, so happy, so secure...
Here, we were no longer "the Little Ones"
-as our parents called us, comparing us to our two elder brothers.
Here we were at the centre of the world,
surrounded by the love and attention of our beloved granddad
who took us all the way from Amsterdam to Limburg
for our own special Autumn Holiday!

On November 1, 1966
we went back
after lunch.
We departed from the guesthouse
the weather was sunny
we took one final look at the brook we played in
waved good-bye to our hosts
and turned left...
We must have
traveled
up the hill
we must have turned a few corners
we must have passed through another village
we most certainly have stopped at that junction
at the N278
Then we turned left again,
I was told
to enter the provincial road
I was told
that's where it happened
I was told
the road was hilly
I was told
Grandfather did not see the other car
I was told
driving on the N278 at regular highway speed
I was told
when we turned left it hit us
I was told
and that's how it happened
I was told
as I woke up
and asked where I was
and woke again
and again
and again
and asked over and over where I was
and saw over and over again
dark brown wood paneled hospital walls
and I felt
my hands tied to my hospital bed
and my head bandaged
my leg in bandages
and tied to a constellation with ropes and weights;
injured badly
but alive...
Alive
in a life
that would never
be the same...

I still don't recall what happened after we left the guesthouse
or anything that happened in the first days after "the Accident"...
I only know
that I am frightened of driving in cars
and that I have to put yet another link to the chain of
working through this horrible experience
hoping to ease the stress...
After multiple surgery,
2 months and 19 days in hospital,
recovering at home for another 6 months,
physical restrictions for the rest of my life,
years of relating to the event,
feeling, experiencing,
going through the pains,
working it all out by painting, writing, talking about it;
I finally had enough courage to try and locate
and visit the place
where it happened.
In the Autumn of 1997....
my partner and now husband Wynsen and I
went by train
-it would have been a 3 hours drive-
rented a car in Heerlen
and drove to the spot
where we were told
it had happened

(click to enlarge this picture
use your back arrow to return)
I walked across the road
and went to the place
where I felt
I had lain.
I felt a slight physical shock
through my right arm.
I walked through the grass
sat on my knees
and cried...
I shed the tears
where they belonged
... on the soil
where I had lain - injured.
And then
across the road
against this willow tree
I prayed
and rested

That
day
We drove again
to the junction
and turned left
onto the N278
No car hit us
I had survived
I did not die
I was alive!

Next:
Back in the Summer of 1999
(More on A Season of Sad Change)
A poem of consolation
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