fritzvd

Today, after a long time of keyboard-silence, I return with a cheerful blog post on death. Why? Well, yesterday my grandfather passed away, which reminds us of our last foe. He was a (war)hero, at least to me he was.

Strangely enough I stumbled upon Johnny Cash album: VI – Ain’t No Grave only an hour after hearing the sad news. This is a beautiful recording of someone who wasn’t afraid of death. I like that. And in that I spirit I would like to remember Oupa Jan.

So I do not want to dwell on the sadness of the matter. My grandfather was a cheerful chap with a good bundle of laughter readily available to burst out when (in)appropriate, as was his arsenal of jokes or songs that would always feature someone naked or other toiletries. He would tease my other grandparents, who would sometimes visit them, by putting acorns in the guest room bed. Or he would tell us stories. Stories of how he met our grandmother. Or why our skin changes when we’ve been out in the sun. Most of it was nonsense, but it was wonderfully prosaic.

Also he met my grandmother in a heroic way, so he told us. Because of his mighty good grades in Mathematics he could accompany his father, a theological scholar, on a hunting trip with the Dutch Royal Family to the Great Britain. They would hunt Lions (I know what you’re thinking, Britain, Lions? Just google British Lions). To keep it short, there he saw the most beautiful girl of all time.

In light of this I make a toast. A toast to my grandfather, the hero. In the words of Cash: Until we meet again.

In Memoriam   J.C.W. Kroeze – The Hero.