For our English visitors:

ANNA, - ‘Dancing in my mind’/ Jan C. van der Heide

Published by Citadel, Oegstgeest, Holland

ISBN 90-6586-018-5

NUR 642

Biography

Photo cover: Jan C. van der Heide

Translation: Dea P. Broersen.

1. FOREWORD

2. CHILDHOOD

3. MEETING AGAIN BY CHANCE

4. OUR FIRST HOME

5. LIVING IN OEGSTGEEST

6. ALWAYS BUSY TOGETHER

7. WRITING

8. FOR YOU

9. ANGELS

10. BLIJGEEST

11. THE LAST YEAR

12. MENTAL POWER

13. WEEKS

14. ON OUR WAY TO

15. FAREWELL

16. SERVICE AT A HOUSE OF GOD

17. GUARDIAN ANGEL

Foreword

The book ANNA – Dancing in my mind is a tribute, a declaration of love, but this time across the border of death. My late wife Anna was my fondest love, friend, partner, lover, support and shield, confidante, darling. For thirty-two years we were inseparable. Every second, we were together with intense love. Everything we undertook we did together, always together, day and night.

With this book I want to put up a written monument for her. About the spiritual and the entire love from heaven and earth we felt for each other. The intense connection. Our souls flowing into each other and becoming one soul.

Like Anna often said to me: ‘I am you and you are me.’ Together we formed one spiritual world.

We fitted together like the yin-yang symbol, alpha and omega.

The way she always stood by me, worked with me in our practice, is unique. Despite her severe illness during many years, Anna accompanied me everywhere: TV-shows, radio broadcasts, workshops, lectures home and abroad. We were always together, in our hearts and minds.

She was a warm and loving personality. Her life was dedicated to ‘the other’. No one attempted in vain to obtain her kind advice. In her large mother’s heart was room and understanding for everybody.

She was extremely sensitive, practical, and also an idealistic realist.

Why this book? To let her loving spirit live on, on earth. This is the story of an intensely loving, faithful and tender woman. We can bask in and draw comfort from the fruits of her life, the beauty of her character. This is the description of braveness, personal courage, dedication, perseverance and tender care. Her character was like a jewel. A beautiful woman, inside and out: dear Anna.

Jan C. van der Heide

CHILDHOOD

When she was only eighteen months old Anna raced through her parents’ house that was situated at one of the beautiful canals in Leiden. She had raven-black, wavy hair past her shoulders. Sweet, pretty and endearing. Big brown eyes, inquisitive, always talking and laughing. She possessed a wonderful child’s and dreamy imagination. For example, once she turned a box of oatmeal upside down in the middle of the living room. Sitting with the small mountain on the floor, and throwing handfuls of oat flakes gracefully in the air, she called: ‘Snow, Snow.’ Following the flakes with her velvet brown eyes, completely wrapped up in what she was doing. Creative, resourceful, deep concentration and imagination: it started at an early age. Indeed, she was a very special child and persistent in a positive way.

The following story is proving that. It was some sort of miracle.

As a three year old, she went with her mother to the beach in Katwijk. They sat nearby the beach tent Willie, close to the sluice. Her mother was pleasantly talking to someone. The little toddler went somewhat astray. Anna walked to the canal with her swimsuit to wash the suit clear of sand. She stooped, slid down the basalt blocks and disappeared under water.

A few moments later a German seaside visitor, who was having a vacation in Katwijk for her health, took a dip exactly on the same spot in the canal. Suddenly she felt something clutching her leg. Startled she kicked it off and climbed out of the water. A few moments later she again went into the water at approximately the same spot. And again something was clutching her leg… but this time it didn’t let go. With some difficulty the woman climbed out of the water with the yet unidentified thing hanging to her leg. It was Anna, by now she had turned blue in the face, clamping to the woman’s leg with her little arms. The woman couldn’t believe her eyes, thought she was dreaming. Then Anna was quickly brought to the beach tent, where they already had hung an alarm flag, indicating that a child was missing or believed drowning.

They squeezed the seawater out of her lungs and gave her coffee.

From that time on Anna used to say: ‘Coffee nice, seawater yucky.’

She suffered no harmful consequences from this near drowning, but her mother lost her voice for a couple of weeks.

Washing sand from a swimsuit, falling into the water… it eventually ended in a miraculous rescue.

God, in His mysterious ways, had decided to let Anna live on.

We talked about this often, realizing that many Germans had killed. But this German woman saved someone’s life. We were considering going to the German press to tell our story, so that the rescuer could be tracked down and we were able to thank her deeply.

For us this rescue was one of God’s miracles. And because of this miracle we could become husband and wife, so that our deepest love from heaven for each other could begin to flourish from heaven.

FROM KATWIJK TO ANNA’S HOMETOWN LEIDEN

In the beginning the family lived in a first-floor apartment. Later on they moved to a larger house, with a large attic on the second floor and an alcove bedroom. As Anna told later: ‘The roof leaked. In winter, when it was freezing I woke up in the morning with ice on the blankets.’

The family had three children. Father was a house painter, good-natured and quick to laugh. Mother worked hard in her household, and did everything to make decent people out of her children. She took care of clean clothes and taught them to speak with two words. She instructed them to shake hands and to introduce themselves properly when visiting someone for the first time. She learnt them to wash their hands before dinner, to do no talking with your mouth full, to eat with knife and fork. Good manners, Anna’s mother was always hammering at it. And to be honest at all times. If you stole an apple at the greengrocery, it meant you had to bring the apple back with your face as red as the apple. Anna’s mother hated thieves.

However, Anna never stole an apple or anything from someone else. Already as a child she was utterly honest.

Thanks to her diligent mother everything in her parental home shone with brilliancy. As with many families back then she had to look twice at her money. Mother did everything to make ends meet, and saw to it that the children didn’t lack for anything. As a child, Anna loved her mother dearly. When she had received her pocket money or earned a few dimes somewhere doing shopping for someone, she bought her mother some pastry. Mother in return shared the sweets with her daughter. It was the feeling of sharing things and together tucking into something sweet.

Anna, speaking about her childhood years, told me: ‘My mother took great care of her family and me when I was a child. Most of the times it felt good at home. Saturday nights we used to sit at the table and shell peanuts on a newspaper, while we listened to the radio. Sometimes there were as many as ten cats in the house. All strays. I’ll never forget little Bear. A white/Siberian tomcat, he was as big as a dog. Often he jumped up to me, put his paws around my neck and clung to my chest. He also was a mean robber. But to me he was sweet. At our home it seemed to be a chaos because of the children and pets, and still there was order.’

At the canal where Anna lived there was always something happening for a child. Playing on the little moored boats and the large barges, climbing on the sand containers, which stood on high iron supports.

Anna was a climber, strong, extremely limber and afraid of nothing. It was okay to play outside, but as soon as the streetlamps were on every child had to come inside. If you didn’t, one of the neighbors would call: ‘The streetlamps are on!’ Sometimes Anna ‘forgot’, and when she got home late her mother was already waiting for her to give her a good and plain hiding.

Artistic, musical Anna got piano and ballet lessons from the locally famous teacher Corrie de Wekker.

Anna was her favourite. She always got the leading role when there were performances. Corrie would make her do things even a contortionist couldn’t, but Anna could. Once a gym teacher saw a performance like that and warned Anna’s parents. Her experiments and demonstrations would give Anna serious back problems in the future. But she was dedicated and there was no stopping her; to move meant the world to her.

For the children in the neighborhood Anna frequently gave an acrobatic performance. She could make double somersaults, backwards or forwards, walk on her hands, stand on one hand. Or read the paper while sitting with her legs folded over her shoulders, holding the paper with her feet.

At one time someone from a circus was passing by. He watched the whole show with admiration. Afterwards he rang at her mother’s to ask if her daughter perhaps could join the circus as an acrobat or contortionist. But Anna wasn’t allowed to join the circus and stayed at home. Instead of the circus she went to school and enjoyed her a childhood in a pleasant way.

In class Anna was an intelligent and easy-going pupil with an extremely good linguistic feeling. Her essays got her many A’s.

Already as a child, she was a rare beauty, and she didn’t like that at all. The boys in school were all besotted with her. Often Anna got little gifts or notes her admirers put in her locker. She didn’t particularly like all the attention of bad smelling, spotty little boys.

Later she told about this: ‘The throngs of boys were becoming so bad that I was reluctant to go to school. They all wanted to walk next to me. If there were one walking next to me, another would start a fight with him. My mother even had talk to the principal that this couldn’t go on. I was so embarrassed…’

What appealed most to Anna’s imagination was the fat neighbor a few houses down the street. One day the poor woman got stuck on the lavatory and fell halfway through the floor. Stuck on the lavatory she kept hanging in the ceiling. You could see her hanging right from the room beneath. ‘I couldn’t believe my eyes,’ Anna smiled, ‘but also I felt so sorry for her.’

That was Anna, always feeling sorry for everyone and everything, because of her compassionate, sympathetic and tender understanding nature.

On the other hand she was a genuine child. She loved candy, liquorice and other sweets. And she always shared with the other children. That was Anna.

So many anecdotes can be told of Anna’s youth. For example, in those days the houses were fitted with a gas meter, and in order to get gas you had to put a dime in the meter. These dimes were available at the gas factory. Anna had to collect them. Every time she went to the man with the dimes he told her: ‘You go home and wash those eyes of yours first.’ because of her big, deep brown sparkling eyes. Anna slunk off and didn’t dare to go to this man again. However, a little talk between her mother and the man of the gas factory in no uncertain terms sufficed; the dime man knew better than to say: ‘You go home and wash those eyes of yours first.’

For that matter, plain language and taking a hard line if necessary wasn’t unfamiliar to Anna. Once her mother saw from the window a greengrocer who was hitting his horse with a stick.

She flew down the stairs, and was standing in front of the greengrocer saying: ‘You do this to me!’ He came at her and said threatening: ‘Okay!’ But yet he didn’t dare to hit her and cleared off with his cart and horse. Anna’s mother called: ‘I never want your vegetables again!’

That’s the spirit Anna grew up in. If it is really necessary, stand up and fight for something; don’t hide away.

Or think of original, social solutions. And let me tell you, they were resourceful in Anna’s neighborhood at the canal! Another story she told later.

‘There was a married man who spent nearly every minute in the pub. His wife and children used to wait forever for him to start dinner. But he was in the pub and didn’t show up. His wife started to get so bored with this. One day she took the pan with the food, a plate and a spoon with her to the pub her husband was at the time, flung everything on the bar and started serving his food onto the plate, saying: “If you don’t come home for dinner I’ll bring it to you.”

Never again there was someone more laughed at in that pub than this man. He was cured instantly. For years to come this story was told as the joke of the century.

And something else I’ll never forget. It is also about a married man.

He sort of slept in the pub and you could find him there almost all the time. His wife was home alone and she hated it! But she found a way. She thought to herself: What you can do, I can do better. She put on a tacky dress and made herself look a fright with thick layers of lipstick and facial powder. In this outfit she went to the pub her husband used to be. She sat on a barstool and flirted, made eyes at every man in the pub. Her husband was goggle-eyed.

Very soon he took his wife home, where she promised him solemnly to continue this provocatively behaviour each time he would be staying in the pub again. From that time one he came home in time.

Anna could tell these stories in a juicy, vivid and smooth way.

One of the most beautiful things that happened in Anna’s childhood was the birth of her sister Wil, almost nine years her junior. Contrary to dark-haired Anna, this was a blond child with clear blue eyes.

Anna could talk of nothing else but of her little sister. How sweet, how beautiful, how cute she was. Anna’s schoolteacher thought these stories so endearing. She decided to visit Anna’s parents in order to see this marvel of a sister with her own eyes. Anna mothered her little sister. She has partly raised Wil because their mother was quite sickly at the time. Later Anna often told me: ‘When Wil was sad I couldn’t stop looking at her beautiful blue eyes. Two fat tears used to well into those eyes and slid down her cheeks. I felt so sorry for her when this happened. Some other time Wil was nearly choking on a piece of sausage. She turned all blue in the face. My mother did nothing and stood there screaming, she was all nerves. I retrieved the piece that was stuck from her throat and she was able to breathe again.’

Anna tried to help out at home as much as possible, and took things off her mother’s hands. Run errands, peel potatoes, do jobs about the house.

In the parental home many people visited, all birds of a different feather. ‘It was cosy and cheerful at the time, talking to everyone,’ she said about this later.

Temperamental Anna was not only just good. She had a very strong sociable sense and she did stand up for herself. In case of injustice she just dealt with it. In particular when it meant having to stick up for someone else. For example, once she tore off all the shirt buttons from a sneaky boy next door in one go, because he was badgering her sister. With her strong and swift fingers and hands, she did this just in one pull. But it was an exception to rule that she acted this way. She disliked aggression and violence. In general she was soft-spoken, sweet, dreamy and very helpful.

Like to the old granny down the street. Every time Anna passed by, the granny asked her: ‘Would you please get me a half loaf of bread?’ And Anna did, until she heard that granny didn’t eat the bread at all, and there were as many as twenty loaves lying there from the times before.

Some legendary characters lived there at the canal. ‘Breadbin’ for instance in the Huygensstraatje, was a woman who could act in a rather malignant way. Standing in the doorway she reacted, ranting and raving, to the children who were whether or not teasing her. ‘Breadbin’ herself had a bunch of children in various skin and hair colours.

Another one was the neighbor down the street. During wartime several horses disappeared mysteriously in his hallway. During the war by the way, the neighbors took more care of each other than usual. For instance, one neighbor chatted with the baker and in the meantime the other one emptied the bread cart. Afterwards the bread was divided amongst the neighbors.

And then there were the neighbors on the left- and right-hand side. When Anna lay in bed on Sunday nights, the Calvinistic neighbors on one side played the organ and sang loudly hymns of Johannes de Heer. On the other side the Catholics were having tremendous fun, laughing and shouting and having a lavish drink.

As Anna told: ‘Summer nights at the canal were always so wonderful. The chairs from the living room were brought outside. Some people could play the accordion beautifully, while singing together. I will never forget the special atmosphere of those sultry nights. Day in day out we children used to come and go to each other’s house. I remember that other children further down the street were amazed that we got one whole egg every Sunday. They only got half an egg. Everybody took care of everybody. When there was a thunderstorm, my mother always said: “You go and fetch granny Piquet, she is afraid of lightning.” Granny Piquet always gave me wonderful suck mints; those I will never forget. She also passed the fear of lightning on to me.’

In her childhood Anna could often be found at the cattle market in Leiden. She was very fond of animals. She stroked the little rabbits and caressed the lambs. When I was about eleven years old, I too often went to this cattle market. That is where Anna and I met for the first time. Raven black-haired Anna and golden-haired Jan, quietly standing opposite each other. We never spoke a word, shy as we were, but only looked at each other smiling sweetly. There was recognition, twin souls who met. Anna often thought of this little blond boy from the cattle market. She even dreamt about him, as she told later. And since those very first ‘meetings’, Anna never left my heart or my vision. Although it took us more than ten years after the cattle market to meet again.

From a little girl Anna developed into a stunningly beautiful adolescent. Her looks were dazzling, and she radiated charm and charisma. She was as beautiful on the inside as she was on the outside.

She once told me: ‘One time I was visiting a friend. There were people sitting in the living room. I was in the hall. And they were saying: “Anna is the hall and she is such a dazzling beauty. You’ll see her shortly, she looks just like a movie star.” When I heard that, I could die from shame.’

Anna always kept a feeling of inferiority because of her beauty.

Anna was very attractive. So there were many potential boyfriends around. Her father and mother tried to stay on top of things. Her mother put ‘by mistake’ salt in one of the boyfriend’s coffee instead of sugar. According to her, he was no good. And as it turned out later, she was right. In any case, she was able to drive him away from her daughter in time. I’ll always be grateful for that.

Acrobatic Anna proved to be made for the ballet. After hard admission requirements and trial dancing for Hans van Maanen, a famous choreographer, she received an official scholarship for Arts and Science. That year only two scholarships were awarded to the most promising girls in classical ballet in Holland and Anna was one of them. She enrolled at Peter Leonev’s Dance Academy in The Hague. There, and also at another dance school, she trained for about six years. Leonev was very strict. She was often chosen to show the others how to do it properly, her exercises at the barre, the pirouettes and the twirls.

I once said to Anna: ‘I’m sure Peter Leonev was a master when it came to the classical dance. It is therefore a pity that he didn’t recognize the absolute natural talent one of his pupils had. I’m a lout who doesn’t even know how to folk dance, but even I know how extremely talented you are as a dancer. The best I know, and the most beautiful.’

And Anna used to reply: ‘I’m glad it turned out this way. Otherwise I would never have met you.’

Nevertheless Anna got many leading roles in ballet plays. She even won the Treslong TV-nomination and was picked up by one of the leading TV-personalities in Holland in those days to take her to the studios.

She specialized in Spanish dance, and was a master with the castanets, when she danced it was looking to a fairy tale.

She was passionate, temperamental but tender, a dedicated Spanish dancer from Leiden.

Ballet training meant blind obedience and discipline. Training for hours and hours. Resting moments could be found at her grandmother Garnier in The Hague. Often Anna visited her during lunch hours. Grandmother was very fond of her sweet granddaughter.

After a day of hard training she used to sit in the train home exhausted. You could wring out her shirt. And when she took off her ballet shoes, there was often blood in them.

Except for being a phenomenal dancer, her beauty bothered her a great deal. Everybody tried to chat her up, in the streetcar, bus and train or somewhere on the streets. One beautiful summer day a complete stranger walked up to her, halted just in front of her and kissed her. The gentleman shouldn’t have done this. Anna lifted up her heavily muscled ballet leg and similar rock hard foot and kicked him well aimed at, let’s say it nicely, below belly height. The man cracked. Anna took one step aside and walked away bolt upright and proud as if nothing had happened. Very controlled on the outside, but the kisser unleashed a furious and all-consuming stream of lava on the inside. She was full of indignation. This was Anna’s natural temperament, straight on if necessary. The man probably didn’t expect a dazzling beauty like that to react so strongly. If he had known he would have thought better of it.

Anna has had an endless succession of offers to pose as a model for international magazines.

Offers from large fashion houses to work as a dress model were also flying in. A movie director wanted to book her for the leading role in a film about Anne Frank’s life. She turned everything down. She was a prima ballerina pur sang.

The one and only time she posed was for the famous painter Van Boxtel and his pupils. Always dressed decently in all sorts of dancing costumes. Hundreds of paintings and drawings have been made of her. Van Boxtel even won a very prestigious artist prize with one of her portraits, the Jacob Maris prize.

For hours Anna used to pose for this artist so she could pay the extras for her ballet training.

While she was posing van Boxtel’s wife brought tea and cookies. Dreamlike Anna, her thoughts far away, nibbling at a cookie while the famous artist was creating a small masterpiece.

Anna had grown into an adult woman. Without any airs, affectation, arrogance or artificiality. Or: here I am. She was a pure black-haired beauty. Her looks were as beautiful as her character. She was powerful, strong, resilient, high-spirited, tender, gentle, sweet and full of charisma. She was a unique woman.

Even if she didn’t speak, her warm and kind presence still filled the room. Everybody close to her faded beside her radiant nature. She absolutely didn’t do it on purpose; she was simply there with her presence and her sparkling personality from deep within.

That was Anna.

MEETING AGAIN BY CHANCE

Almost 33 years ago, on a warm summer night, I sat behind a cool beer on a pavement together with an acquaintance of mine. We had some small talk about life in general. Without a specific topic, but still holding that nice cold beer. All of a sudden my acquaintance said: ‘Jan, I have a date tonight with some special girls, together with my girlfriend José. One of her friends is one of the most beautiful women I have ever seen. Also joining this set is a rather tall woman, she seems your type to me. Want to join me?’

I only partly listened to him and mumbled something like: ‘The only thing I’m joining today is this simple beer. It is so hot today.’

When I went to the bathroom a while later and washed my hands, I regained consciousness. The invitation of my acquaintance to join him only then truly registered. Everything in me called: Go, go, do it, do it! They filled my mind and heart and I listened to these feelings. I made up my mind, with lightning speed now. I quickly walked back to our table and told him: ‘Okay, I’ll join you tonight.’

We left and went to the place where his girlfriend José was already waiting for him; she was all dressed up. From a distance I saw this tall woman. Startled by the look of her, I quickly looked the other way, and considered going to the bar in a straight line. Imagine having to spend a whole evening with ‘the tall one’… I had enough of that in one swift glance. The thought got on my nerves. And the thought of a blond glass of beer with an impeccable white froth appealed to me far more.

Luckily I was introduced to José’s other friends. Including an exceedingly beautiful woman. Raven black long hair cascading down her shoulders, a magnificent creature, full of grace and charm. She had wonderful velvet brown eyes with a loving and mischievous twinkle, a gentle smile around her eyes and a tender mouth. She introduced herself with her warm and singsong voice, saying: ‘Nice to meet you, I’m Anna.’

She shook my hand with her own attractive one and from that time on we never let go of each other’s hand again.

Love at first sight. I knew it in a flash. ‘We will marry and live happily ever after.’ Later Anna told about our very ‘first’ meeting: ‘I thought you were tall, blond and infinitely sweet. You opened the little door in my heart at once and went inside. And I knew from the start that you would remain there as long as I’d live. You couldn’t get out anyway. When you were inside my heart I locked the door at once. Love of my life.’

In fact Anna and I knew each other already from our meeting at the cattle market with the lambs and little rabbits, while smiling at one another sweetly and endearingly, shy as we were.

When I was nine years old I already told my parents: ‘I’m going to marry a woman who is called Anna. She is very beautiful, has long black hair, is not very tall and she’s a dancer.’

And now we had met again in the flesh! It was the most beautiful moment of our lives.

Everything went with the speed of light from then on. Right away we dated for the following day. Go for a cosy drink together. Anna actually hardly ever drank alcohol, but on occasion she nipped at a small vermouth. I hit the beer pretty much, but never too much, as Anna didn’t like that.

We were never tired of talking together about life in general. Questions, remarks from Anna like: ‘Jan, life is often so wonderful, do you think the spirit ends as well? Sometimes I wonder… before you know it your life is over. And then you die and there is nothing anymore. But then again, you wouldn’t know it by then, I think.’

More or less profound thoughts sprang from her beautiful little head, in general ending in a practical or realistic way. She was never mushy, bigoted or goody-goody; she was always spicy and plucky straight from her natural nature. This philosophical and religious dear wondered about the most profound issues, finishing with: ‘Want a peppermint, dear?’

With my pass we visited various student clubs. In those days I ‘studied’ to be a physiotherapist.

Although she had a modest income, Anna frequently and generously gave me money to finance our dates. A rotten situation, but I had run out of my money. It was pleasant everywhere, laughing, meeting friends.

I can say without exaggeration my hair was almost as long as Anna’s, far past my shoulders anyway. We soon got the nicknames Joseph and Mary.

I remember going for a drink in one of those places. Enticingly beautiful Anna was by herself. A drunk walked along and intended to kiss her on the mouth. I turned around in less than a second, and nicked him before he could do anything. Then I lifted him up with one arm about five centimetres from the floor. I hissed at him: ‘What do you want, scumbag?’ I probably looked like a savage Teuton to him. He stammered something like: ‘I did… I didn’t…’ I roared at him: ‘Get the hell out of here or I’ll tear your head off your shoulders.’ He slunk off quickly. Anna had a bit of a fright. Holding each other tightly we walked away and she whispered to me: ‘But my blond Viking, you wouldn’t really tear someone’s head off, would you???’ Yet I noticed that Anna quite liked the way I stood up for her. And she followed her question up with the remark: ‘I know you’re not violent. You’d rather open the window for a mosquito than kill it. Something like that, my Jan?’

We understood one another and it became a wonderful evening. Many would follow. And everything developed rapidly.

After a few weeks Anna and I lived together in her room with her parents. And we haven’t spent another day without the other since. Her mother asked Anna: ‘You really love Jan a lot, don’t you? I can tell.’ And Anna answered: ‘I’m completely besotted with Jan, he is the love of my life.’

In itself a rather unusual talk, because they didn’t discuss deep personal feelings in that family. They were used to keep emotions more to themselves. Between Anna and me this was entirely different. We threw in every emotion, feeling or thought. Everything was open for discussion. Not that we succeeded in keeping our mouths shut anyway. We called everything by its name. Saying everything with loving respect for the other as a fundamental starting point. And we never shouted anything hurtful or directed too personal.

Even thirty-two years later Anna still said: ‘I am in love with you every day.’ And the feeling was mutual with every fibre of my being.

Anna knew how to create a pleasant atmosphere in her room. Second-hand furniture, lamps, candles. Rows of books. She loved to read and devoured one book after the other. In particular when they were about ballet, dance, costumes, history, French and Russian court life, the tsars, Raspoetin. But we discussed everything, the most profound issues of life. Anna often said: ‘It seems to me we already know each other from various past lives when we were together as well. We’re one soul.’

We soon discovered that in this life we were sharing the exact same interests, subjects of a spiritual, paranormal and esoteric nature. Since my childhood I occupied myself with reading palms, graphology and paranormal insights. Later I gave consultations to people. Anna found this extremely interesting.

Her grandmother Garnier was a very gifted medium at one of the oldest spiritual clubs, Harmonia.

Granddaughter Anna possessed the same infinite sensitivity. In fact, often Anna and I needed no words, we felt and thought the same. We had an extraordinary telepathic contact. And loved each other deeply.

But only love doesn’t buy bread. And to live off college-money is also a meagre existence. We had an old bike and that was about it. Anna was following some language courses in English and German. We were looking at our future and wanted to seal our love with marriage.

I decided to give up my studies and to devote myself to managing houses on my own, and now and then selling real estate. And further on writing, journalism, painting and giving paranormal consultations as a psychic.

Anna turned down an offer to dance with a German ballet group for TV. When dancing intensively, her foot injury troubled her more and more.

In her childhood a truck had driven over her foot that completely folded in two. It was a miracle that she kept up with ballet and performing for as long as she did.

Anna wore herself out to justify my living with her parents: she went errands, she vacuumed the house and she dusted and cleaned the windows. She helped her parents as much as she could. But living with the parents became somewhat stifling. Although they meant well in their own way. You could say that I – indeed with some exaggeration – I adored them. Take for example only the fact that they produced this daughter I loved so dearly. As their daughter loved me.

Anna and I often said to each other: ‘A bird is known by its note and a man by his talk.’ Live and let live was our motto.

Still it was time for another place to live. We didn’t have money to buy or rent a house. And so we moved to my parents where we lived for quite some time, together with our son. He was an original, intelligent and basically sweet boy. Anna proved to be an unusually loyal, sweet and loving mom. And I tried to be a good dad. But this book is about Anna, apart from our parenthood. This book is about our love for each other as husband and wife.

My father was very fond of Anna. They used to sit for hours talking and laughing. They understood one another and shared their sense of humour. Although my father was not an easy person, he was rather rebellious and short-tempered. But Anna knew exactly how to deal with him. He ate out of her hand. Sometimes he said to me: ‘Anna is a thoroughbred, a hundred percent, she should be handled with extreme care.’ He used to give these fatherly, vague, but well meant advices now and then. You never exactly knew what he meant. These slogans were his specialty. But it didn’t matter. Our time living in with my parents was a harmonious one. Anna raced through the house like a cleaning tornado and helped out as much as she could. And she was always willing to grab a paintbrush to whiten the hall and half of the house.

She was a real go-ahead sort of person. Always happy, in a good mood, enthusiastic and friendly. The darling of the house.

In the meanwhile I produced publicity material and articles from my typewriter so that we had a living, and muddled along in some real estate. Finally we could move into our first own home. A tiny little house. But marriage first. She looked like a dazzling movie star in her white dress and blue hat. Such a darling. It was on a beautiful summer day. Our honeymoon took us to Germany. Instinctively we stopped for the night at a wonderful, fairy-like hotel on a hill, on the edge of a lake.

We mentioned to the innkeeper that we got married the day before. Never again, before or after, an innkeeper has been pampering us like that. Without asking we got the romantic bridal suite, with cosy lightning, silk cushions, snacks, drinks, meals, flowers in our room, bars of extra sweet-smelling soap, a dining table set with silver and two magnificent flowers.

Anna and I imagined ourselves to be in paradise. The next day when we checked out and wanted to pay, the innkeeper said: ‘I have never seen a more beautiful and sweet couple as you are. Your first official wedding night is my wedding present to you. May your life be blessed…’

Anna and I were delighted with so much kindness. We couldn’t have wished for a better start of our marriage.

Later we tried to locate this fairy-like hotel in order to thank the innkeeper once again. And to relive our wedding night. But we couldn’t for the life of us find it, because we didn’t know the exact location.

Anna said: ‘Oh well, in fact our whole life is a wedding night and day, as long as we are together with love.’ My darling.

OUR FIRST HOME

We managed to acquire that tiny little house in Leiden. In the meantime we owned a twenty-year-old Volkswagen, where mushrooms were growing under the floor of the car. And there we possessed two old bikes.

But we could fill the little house with our love many times over, having barely anything else. Some stuff from Anna’s room and mine, that was all.

We decided to go ‘shopping’ at the garbage truck. For weeks we dragged ‘found’ furniture into our home from every corner the truck used to ride. The Volkswagen served as moving van. We fixed everything nicely, polishing until it shone with brilliancy. We preferred antique things and stuff from granny’s days. Thirty years ago these things could be easily found, next to the trashcan. People didn’t realize what they threw away. Our parents also helped acquiring things and other necessities. Gradually our house became a little palace. Anna had fantastic taste. She knew how to arrange things harmoniously and where to place them. Flowers here, a painting there, some knickknacks. Our house started to look more and more like a museum or a chapel, with all these statues of Mary, Jesus and Buddha. Only we ourselves weren’t holy yet. Or Anna would say: ‘The only living saint in this house are you, Jan, since you have a beard…’ And when we by any chance were eating she quickly followed her remark up by saying: ‘Would you like a peanut butter sandwich or a jelly sandwich, saint of mine?’

She loved to quip, and had a sense of self-mockery and nuance. Often humour leapt from her eyes. There was not a wrinkle in her face, but then very subtle touches would crease her mouth and eyes. A shiver of infinite sensibility for atmosphere, words and sounds. In fact Anna was one large antenna…

Meanwhile she conjured up the most delicious meals from her tiny kitchen embellished with red strips of flowery cloth. Often it seemed that we kept an open house, with friends and acquaintances coming and going.

When we were having dinner and a visitor came by, we put an extra plate on the table and he or she only had to take a seat and tuck in. Anna was an international cook. Her soups and bouillons were famous. Dishes from Thailand, Indonesia, Surinam, Nepal, India; rice or solid Dutch cooking. She could cook anything, in no time at all, and it tasted so wonderful you nearly ate your fingers with it. She added the ingredient ‘love’ in generous amounts to her cooking and everyone tasted it. While having dinner – with or without guests – the latest news flew across the table. Anna and I supplemented each other’s words quick as light. Sometimes it was she who gave the opening; sometimes it would be me. Word-jokes, anecdotes, simply social talk. In fact, Anna was talking all the time even if she was silent. Her eyes spoke, her body language talked, her sparkling inner being was communicating its feelings.

I used to react either without words or in long, short sentences. Hugging one another, a mutual kiss in passing. Her playful sweet hand tumbling my hair, my hand caressing her cheek. Always tender.

In fact Anna and I were communicating all day through with a good, warm and loving atmosphere between us. But neither of us liked stickiness, whining or namby-pamby. We intensified each other’s inner vibration. Indeed, Anna was more talkative than I. When I was in a talkative mood, Anna used to intervene with a short remark so that I was able to add the sparks and splashes to my story.

And her memory for events and facts was encyclopaedic and always at hand. She would say things like: ‘Yes Jan, but do you remember…’ and I knew immediately what she meant and chattered on.

Visitors, guests, friends and acquaintances used to love being at our place. Often they lingered on for hours. Until late in the night we had interesting and captivating talks about religion and spiritual, paranormal issues. Anna and I were so very proud of each other. When Anna was talking to someone, the word ‘Jan’ used to come up at least once. According to others I often mentioned ‘my small, tall wife Anna’, ‘little one’, or ‘my wife’.

Why I am so proud of Anna? Because of the human being she is, as an entity. Her loving spirit and soul. It would go too far to describe it all. Take for instance her hands.

Perfect harmony. Practising chiromancy (palmistry) I just had to look at her hands all the time. The size of her fingers, nails, palm, wrist, everything was in harmony.

The marks in her hands showed tendencies of creativity, warm emotional inner life, altruism, intelligence, resourcefulness, temperament and all kinds of other good qualities. Her hands and fingers were powerfully strong because of her ballet training. At the same time her skin and hands were soft and caressing. When combing your hair she wouldn’t harm a hair on your head. When stroking a cat or dog it was always sweet and soft. Animals loved Anna and were drawn to her in the same way people were. Used to jump in her lap immediately, the animals, that is.

Returning to the topic of her hands, she also knew extremely well how to use them. Not only to sweep the street, but she also had ‘green fingers’, not a plant would die on her. Her hands were diligent and creative. For instance she could write beautiful poems about love, happiness, flowers, birds, butterflies, people. She used to recite them to me in her warm singsong voice.

According to a famous teacher of Dutch language, her poems met with literary standards.

She would write fabulous children’s stories and wrote for newspapers and magazines about healing herbs. Three children’s books she wrote, six volumes of poems and then all the herbs stories.

And why Anna was proud of me? We loved and love each other. There was nothing we wouldn’t do.

Even give up our own lives if necessary. Like that time in traffic. There was this guy who thought I made a road offence and he came at me with a stick of wood in his hands. Before I could prevent it Anna jumped in between the two of us. I couldn’t get her to move which was the hardest part for me, she just stood there unwavering, radiating something like: if you dare, you there with the wood…

I spoke to the man in a psychological way and so he dropped the stick of wood. Afterwards I told Anna in all sorts of ways never to do anything like that again. But you cannot cure a person of a courageous character.

BACK TO HISTORY

I hated managing rented houses, but we needed to take care of the necessities of life. We thought of all kinds of things to obtain extra income. Anna was crafty and loved to make things, like jewellery, pots of clay, wood burn work. I became a wood turner and made puppets out of broomstick handles, whole families, up to soccer teams and all. Everything was painted in bright colours. Or fruit bowls, pots, dishes of fine woods. Enthusiastically we tried to retail our wares at markets and such. If we didn’t drink too much coffee or had too many sandwiches there would be some money left. Those were the days we filled up the Volkswagen’s petrol tank with gas for seven guilders per filling.

Otherwise there wasn’t any money left in our wallets to buy food. And still, we were not poor. We were rich in happiness and love. Adding to that, Anna knew very well how to cope with the money situation. Her slogan used to be: if there is only one dime in your pocket, don’t spend two.

It seems rather dull thinking. But it kept us financially very sane. With money she was an artist. She could buy designer clothes, the most beautiful things, for cut down prices. These dresses were only once worn by models. I remember one time when the rumour buzzed through the neighborhood, especially with the old gossips: ‘I saw Jan with another woman. They were getting in the car. That woman was looking fantastic. She was wearing a large white hat with feathers and a magnificent long purple dress.’

I had to disappoint everybody and the scandal stories. You see, it was Anna herself in a dazzling outfit, on her way with me to this great party.

Superb, designer’s clothing. Anna had her connections everywhere. But always fair. In her whole life she never did anyone short. She spent most of her money buying presents for someone else. Birthdays, Santa Claus, Christmas, Easter, weddings. Anna spent weeks wrapping presents. Each year she made dozens of very artfully arranged parcels, decorated with flowers.

I never complained, because I knew Anna’s biggest pleasure in life was making someone else happy.

And everything she did came from deep within. Never artificial or would-be, but spontaneous and natural all the way. Anna was unable to pretend.

When she said to me: ‘Light of my life, my great love’, it made me extra happy and warm inside. Because I knew she meant it, which gave us both wings of love in a surrogate world full of fake love and deepfreeze warmth.

As time passed I took up writing for newspapers, magazines and companies. Writing advertisement texts and even books. According to Anna the most wonderful work she ever read, was my little book The crop grows until the harvest. I was proud of that. She reread it many times. It was well thumbed on the bookshelf.

Also I wrote speeches, material for weddings and parties, up until eulogies. And besides that I gave my paranormal consultations. Wherever I went Anna went with me, we spent every day and night together. Sometimes she took the pictures to go with my articles.

We were a close team, in our private as well as our professional lives.

Always thinking up interesting plans. Sparkling Anna often had unusual, original ideas. Through our mutual inner cross-pollination things became even more beautiful and that is where we derived our positive and indefatigable strength. Joy full of love. Mutually stimulating. Among other things, through my articles we organized a clothes collection for people in Nepal, collecting and shipping thousands of kilos of clothes. Anna’s best friend Apsara came from Nepal. We also collected money for the poor in Nepal so that they could buy cows and chickens.

And my readers paid one guilder for a wheelchair on behalf of a man without legs. Anna used to phone everyone to ensure more success. She was an unusually good ambassadress, diplomat and she was able to communicate at the highest level. She could talk with the minister as well as with the garbage collector.

And they all thought she was sweet, kind, spunky and nice. Which she was, one of a kind. Not that she was a softy or silly woman. Not at all. If you were looking for drawling and goody-goody talk, you had better get a move on. With certain people she could reveal herself as someone whom you didn’t take for granted that easily. In those cases she reacted in plain terms, very direct and sharp as a razor, but always humane. Often she was right. It was mostly a matter of injustice. Temperamental Anna could flare up furiously then, stood her ground and wasn’t scared of the devil himself. For instance with three louts. In a shopping mall they roughly pushed a woman in a wheelchair forward with great speed, just for ‘fun’. Anna looked at it, leaped forward and grabbed the collar of one of them, yelling quite close to his ear: ‘Your mother would be so ashamed of you!’ The boy went beet red with shame and anger. He made a threatening move. I stepped in at once. Drawing myself up to my full height, I threateningly looked at the lout full of rage, in the meantime squeezing Anna’s hand softly for a moment or two… this was a signal for her to let her lava-like temperament cool down for a bit. Not that she had these outbursts often, not at all. But she always stood up for the weak, the sick and the underdog. And extremely fierce if the situation asked for it.

Like the time when this woman came at me and started calling me names in a most vulgar way. This ‘lady’ wouldn’t stop. It must have been because of something I wrote in the paper or somewhere else.

I just let her carry on… but Anna became a tigress. It took some effort to prevent her dragging the woman down the street by her hair. Basically Anna couldn’t hurt a fly, was peace loving and soft-spoken in every pore of her being. But some things she just couldn’t stand. Frequently she said: ‘I could kill people who have it in for you!’

In later years Anna was able to channel her fiery temperament somewhat, although it remained entirely possible for her to stand up and fight. When we discussed temperament, she often said: ‘You may not have Spanish blood, but I think Frisian blood is just as bad. How many times haven’t I pulled you back from your crusades, my Jan?’

In our days with the newspaper we went everywhere, in the local area anyway. Our specialty was social abuse. We stood up for the underdog in society, also through our Foundation Human.

Frequently we visited Kaatje, a woman who lived on a very tiny houseboat with twenty cats. In the wintertime she heated the stove red-hot while the place was swarming with cats. On entering the house we got nearly stupefied… A smell like you wouldn’t believe. Take for instance the stink of one tomcat peeing… Kaatje then used to ask: ‘Coffee?’ We never had any coffee there. When it came to food and drink Anna and I were quick to turn up our noses at anything suspicious. We were keen on savouring dishes where the hostess didn’t enlist kitchen help from twenty cats, mice, rattlesnakes or any other domestic cattle. Or a kitchen where beetles were playing tag or hide-and-seek on the kitchen sink. We were all of a sudden not hungry anymore.

Once we were invited by a very lonely lady to have dinner. She had set the table nicely. For starters we had an interesting fish soup, with floating fish-heads and all. This while Anna and I are basically vegetarians. Then our hostess needed to go into the kitchen to put the finishing touch to the main course. In the meantime we threw the soup back into the tureen. And when the woman returned in the room Anna and I chorused: ‘Yes, well, we are fast eaters…’ And so the main course was served. Never did we see a more turbid blob. Vaguely you could recognize somewhere in the dab the colour of carrot and potato. It was steaming hot and through the warm fumes we could still smell the fish-heads very well. On closer inspection it even contained oddly shaped pieces of fish. In passing I even discerned some fish-bones.

Anna and I both looked at it with horror… and looking at each other we silently decided: No way we’re going to eat this…

The hostess was somewhat restless and couldn’t sit still very well, running to the kitchen all the time. And she stayed away for quite some time… This was our chance to bury the bad smelling food with an already dead and withered plant sitting in the window. What was left we wrapped in our handkerchiefs to throw in the garbage can later at home. This was a better way than rebuff our hostess having to say: ‘We don’t like your food.’ On our way home after this nice and tasty dinner we picked up some fries.

Frequently we run into odd things.

Some other time I went to return a rented Volkswagen van, Anna was with me and we had to go to the center of Leiden. I had just locked the car when this terribly bleeding man came to me, hissing: ‘Gimme these keys. Gimme.’ I answered: ‘No way’. The bleeding man said again: ‘But they’re after me!’

In the distance I saw a bunch of guys running at us like crazy. In a split second I opened the van’s door and stuffed the guy inside. Anna rushed in the car. I started the car and drove away full throttle. I hadn’t yet had time to close the door and one of the pursuing guys was hanging onto it. So the door was constantly dangerously swaying from side to side. Suddenly and unexpectedly for the hanging man I hit the brakes hard, and the man let go of the car door. Next we were driving full speed across the market, which they were building up, so we had to drive slalom between the market stalls. In the meantime the bleeding guy in the back was yelling: ‘Drive to my home, I’m going to pick up my piece.’ I drove him straight to the police station. That is where Anna talked him in a very psychological way out of the car and delivered him inside the station. He didn’t want to listen to me… When she returned we said to each other: ‘These things seem to happen to us all the time.’

Even in situations like this our teamwork went smoothly; no talking but acting, understanding one another. Although we could think of nicer things to do. We weren’t fond of bad jobs like this, but could handle the pressure.

Going from violence and malice to another incident with a more innocent nature. This woman called our Foundation, announcing: ‘I haven’t talked to anyone in three weeks. Would you like to come and visit me? I could talk then. Would you be willing?’

Of course Anna and I were willing. At the arranged date and time we rang at the door of a huge mansion in Leiden. A completely bent-over, ancient grey lady opened the door at a crack. When we introduced ourselves the lady opened the door some more so that we could just sneak inside. And we stepped inside a house where time had stood still. We were shown into the living room where the interior dated from 1900. We were invited to sit on creaking chairs. A little while later we were served coffee in golden cups. Anna made a wry face with regard to the contents… Coffee? The only resemblance was: it was wet, brown and warm. But okay, this was an old lady. Perhaps also her tin of coffee dated from 1900? Anna and I decided to wait and see. We talked about the weather in order to break the ice. The lady just sat there looking at us, smiling. She seemed to be raising the tension by her silence. And didn’t she in fact wanted to talk?

Finally the old lady said: ‘I would like to show you something.’ She got up, walked towards the cupboard and put all kinds of boxes on the table. Anna and I looked at each other full of wonder behind her back: What is this woman up to? But we waited… The lady took off the lid of the first box, saying: ‘I would like to show you something.’ And from that first box she took a golden necklace set off with brilliants, a diadem covered with the same sort of expensive little stones, a bracelet. She had a fortune in her hand, while the box was filled to the brim with more of that stuff. The ancient lady said: ‘Isn’t it beautiful?’ A second box was opened, stuffed with golden sovereigns. And again she said: ‘Beautiful, isn’t it?’ We asked her: ‘Why do you show us all this?’ The lonely old lady replied: ‘There is no one left in this world I can show these precious things to.’

Out of politeness we waited until milady also opened the other boxes for us. We were here now anyway and she enjoyed showing it all to us. Otherwise it would have been so disappointing. Golden cutlery, a velvet pouch with loose diamonds, gold, silver, platinum in every shape and size were brought before our eyes, boxes and boxes of it! And she told the story behind some of the objects. The old lady’s cheeks were glowing because she could finally have this ‘golden conversation’…

After a while Anna and I had enough of it. We decided not to wait for a second cup of coffee.

On leaving we gave the old lady some advice about putting her treasures in a bank vault.

It is strange where loneliness can lead us.

We have seen so many things, socially and otherwise. Once we got a call about a woman who lived in a completely bare house. This situation already lasted for several months and it was said she was in a terrible state. So, off we went. On the way over there Anna said: ‘If there is a window open somewhere, you can give me a push and I’ll easily climb inside.’

When we arrived we saw a house that was completely bare, no furniture, no curtains, not even a carpet. And no doorbell. Luckily the upper window was open, so I gave Anna a push. She climbed inside and opened the front door. The fridge only contained dead cats. They were all mouldy. Quickly we closed the door. We searched the entire house for the woman but we couldn’t find her anywhere… Until we reached the attic. In a corner we found some old rags and all of a sudden the rags all started to move. A woman emerged, she looked like a skeleton. It was nearly impossible but she was still alive…

We were scared out of our wits. She was a severe mental patient who couldn’t get treatment anymore. Not a single authority wanted to do anything anymore for her. This was Anna’s cue to start moving things around! Finally the woman got admitted some place. Later we used to see her walking in town, well fed, and carrying a grocery bag. When she saw Anna she nearly got squeezed to death in one huge hug. And my ‘little one’ got at least three kisses on every cheek. This ‘patient’ would surely have died under the rags if Anna hadn’t saved her.

Anna was helpful to a whole bunch of people in her life. Some she even rescued literally! My own father for instance. Once she entered his office/hobby room. He was lying on the floor in a pool of blood. A piece of steel burst off the sanding disc from a running machine and had hit his radial artery. The blood squirted everywhere and he had already lost a lot of blood. What Anna did? She let someone call for an ambulance and she held the wound shut with her strong hands and fingers until the paramedics arrived.

If it hadn’t been for Anna, my father would have bled to death. The paramedics told Anna: ‘You are an angel of rescue.’

She acted like such an angel in the following situation as well. My mother underwent major surgery for many hours. A bile stone with the size of a tennis ball went through her organs and intestines and got stuck just above her bladder. The doctors vaguely remembered reading about a case like this in their college books. But encountering something like that in real life? Never. It was rather exceptional. My mother sustained large surgery wounds that were unheard of, all across her upper body. She lay in hospital for weeks. The wounds wouldn’t heal. And the infections grew worse all the time. Basically they gave her up and sent her home. Anna lovingly tended to the wounds. And my mother was healed. The doctors couldn’t understand.

Anna has also saved my life. This time the paranormal was involved. I said to Anna, sometime ago, out of the blue: ‘When my belly starts to hurt here on the left, see to it that they don’t operate because then I will die. And, when I’m lying in the hospital, ‘friend’ Jeroen is the first one to sit beside my bed; get him out of there.’

Two years later I suffered a very serious bout of food poisoning. Totally dehydrated I was brought to the hospital’s small death chamber. They gave my life up. It seemed hopeless. And Jeroen was the first sitting by my bed, saying: ‘So, you felled oak…’

Anna rushed into the potential tiny death room saying: ‘Jeroen, please leave at once!’

A few moments later two surgeons entered. They discussed my case, saying things like: ‘We’ll have to operate.’ Anna immediately said: ‘I do not want my husband operated upon.’ I know that Anna saved my life in that instance, because I wasn’t able to respond to anything. My earlier vision was put into practice in real life and in a lifesaving way. Later a specialist we knew, told us that it’s a known fact for typhoid patients to die when operated upon, all of them.

That’s Anna. Instinctively and intuitively knowing how to act. Purely reacting from her innermost being. Also verbally gifted at exactly the right moment. If she had to she could get to the essence of things with two, three or four words at most. Words that matched the situation to perfection, in this case anyhow. Anna’s lifesaving words determined the borderline between dying and living on.

One morning we woke up in the bed we had made ourselves. Anna said to me: ‘I think I have the flu, I feel so awful…’ We decided to place a door bed in the living room. Somewhat more pleasant for her instead of being secluded in the bedroom. She had a high fever. The doctor came to see her. Yes, the flu. She remained on the door bed for a week. And continued to feel feverish and poorly. A second week of illness. I took care of her the best I could and wrote my articles sitting next to her bed. Trying to get some food into her, small bites, some juice. She was barely able to eat, everything came out again and she lost more and more weight. Not the flu??? Anna lay there staring at nothing, terribly ill. Or cried to herself very softly and pitifully. Frequently she called: ‘I’m useless. I can’t do anything for my husband anymore. Better put me with the trash outside.’ She lacked of spirit.

Too tired to move or even to talk. Then she is really and truly ill. Then, one morning one of our six parakeets lay dead in the cage. I thought: Maybe the birds are the cause of Anna’s illness. So I decided to take them to the pet shop.

Extensive examinations in hospital would follow for Anna. They found nothing. The cause of Anna being so ill remained unknown. I suggested that she might have parrot-disease, thinking of the parakeet that suddenly died. The doctors initially said: ‘Sir, come on! That’s not the cause.’ Still I kept on pushing. The specific examination took place and it turned out to be the parrot-disease. I tried to locate the parakeets later, because the disease is extremely contagious. But the birds couldn’t be traced. Anna was on medication, but it didn’t help. Her heart muscle and pericardium became infected, her bowels suffered from chronic infection and kidneys and lungs hardly functioned.

She felt terribly awful. Desperately she tried to keep her courage up. Her mind was strong as steel but her body wasn’t cooperating. In and out of the hospitals for yet another examination. The parrot–disease disappeared! And what caused her being so ill right now? Cause unknown! She continued to lose weight and at one point she only weighted 43 kilos. Without any cause she fainted in the kitchen.

She was so ill that at one moment she said: ‘I couldn’t care less if they put me in the trash bin. I feel so ill and no doctor can help me.’ She remained ill for months and years to come. There seemed to be no cure. She was on several medications including antibiotics. Nothing helped. There were moments that her life was in danger because of life threatening heart suffering. The cardiologist in charge didn’t know anymore what to do. He was desperate.

Endlessly I tried to encourage her. Said to her: ‘They will find what is it and then you’ll get the right medication.’ Anna became desperate at one point and cried: ‘Oh my love, this is all so terrible for you. Having a wife who can’t do a thing anymore. What can you do with a woman like me?’

Desperately she tried to keep going. But it didn’t work. She was exhausted. When I had to go away for newspaper jobs, she used to sit beside me in the car a plaid lying over her knees. By that way we were still together, otherwise she would only be lying home alone and be terribly ill.

The many acquaintances, friends and stream of visits slowly run dry. There was nothing left to laugh about, to eat or drink together. The ‘best friend’ popped in for a short visit, months later, and said to me in the hall: ‘I hope you don’t mind. I won’t be coming back because I can’t stand it. Anna being so feverishly ill, emaciated in that bed. I cannot take it. You know me, sensitive as I am…’

I answered: ‘Of course you can’t stand it, you being such a sensitive person. I wish you many blessings in your life.’

When I returned in the room with Anna, I took her in my arms and covered her thin little face with kisses of consolation. And assured her: ‘We keep on fighting together.’ She looked at me with these big intense en immensely sad eyes, and said comfortingly while stroking my hair – as if she felt what had been said in the hall: ‘Well Jan, in the end we only have each other and our love in life. We can depend and count on each other. Because we love one another deeply. An