Bye Roger

We have just returned from a quick visit to Belgium. We went there to attend the cremation of Roger, a friend of almost forty years, who died very suddenly in his own home at the age of seventy-two.

It is the first time that I have felt so close to death, perhaps because Roger and his wife, Christiane, were the first friends Elise and I made when we were just married. We were living in a small apartment in Aalst, with no room for a washing machine and nowhere to dry wet things. We asked around and found Roger and Christiane, who had their own laundry business. They collected and delivered the laundry and were amused to see that we were not alone in the apartment, but shared it with a budgerigar, Joey, who was allowed to fly freely through the place (he had a cage, but chose when and when not to use it himself). Joey could also talk and do tricks, so Roger and Christiane asked if they could bring their young daughter, Martine, to see the bird.

And so a friendship was formed that has lasted until now and each couple has seen the other grow older and face the good and the bad times that come and go in a lifetime. Now, suddenly, Roger is no more.

The cremation was held at the Westlede Crematorium in Lochristi and was an intimate and moving occasion. The service was followed by a meal that Roger would have been proud of and then we watched as Roger's ashes were scattered over the grass.

Each person who attended the cremation was presented with a commemorative card carrying Roger's photo on the outside, and inside his name, dates of birth and death and this simple yet moving verse:

Terwijl jij weg bent
en mij enkel leegte laat
vermoed ik onverwoord
dat je nog steeds bestaat…
dat ik je nog kan horen
en nog met je kan spreken…
want alle liefde die er was
kan zelfs de dood niet breken.

I offer this transaltion, my own, for those of you who do not understand Dutch:

Now you have gone
and left me only emptiness
I silently suspect
that you are still here…
that I can still hear you
and can still speak to you…
for not even death can break
all the love there was.

Roger Van de Wiele, 18 May 1939 — 8 June 2011