The unidentifiable beauty in mourning. In Memory of my best friend Fatih.
We were friends, yes we were close, as close as you can be to anybody. Together we scared away unwanted customers out of the shop, visited many blues festivals, had several quarter-pounders at the drive-thru, seduced our women and married our love, had dressed-up Christmas dinners, liked the famous sausages of the “Hema”, which we would eat in the mint green van, guarded the equipment of many artists, sold stuff at flea-markets and antique fairs, traveled thru Europe, scrawled along the beaches of Normandy and finally moved to Portugal.
Nineteen years and six months we enjoyed each other’s company, trusted one another for the full hundred percent, had lot’s of laughs and shared moments of pain and grieve. Loyalty beyond any doubt, unconditional friendship, mutual respect until the day I had to put him in his grave and was putting the soil on top of my best friend ever. I cried for days because I knew that moment of saying farewell was nearby, he knew it to and seemed to be ready to leave. I still can’t see a picture of him without bursting into tears, even my laptop keys are wet while writing this in memory of Fatih.
The unidentifiable beauty hidden in mourning is that I suddenly remember adventures I forgot. Happy day’s, exciting times, beautiful views we saw together and the silly things we did. The first rat he caught in Portugal and proudly presented on our bed, the first time he defended his new territory and scared of 3 big dogs. That day when he shredded the coat of a customer that kept me busy for more than 3 hours in my Dutch shop and he thought that it was enough. The time we ordered a hamburger for both of us and the lady asked; “How many you said? He barked twice. But also the times he knew I was worried or hurt and wouldn’t leave my site for anything or anyone.
He was there at all the important moments in my life so far. The first radio show I did, the first time I laid eyes on the love of my life, at the moment I said “Yes I do”, when we celebrated the prizes we won with our framing-shop, when the first stone was placed while restoring the old ruin that’s now is my workshop, on my journey to Portugal he sat beside me the whole 2500 kilometers, he was there all the years I was restoring our cottage and celebrated when we were finished. Where ever I was the last 19 years, he would be next to me. Watching the same things I saw, walking the same meandering path I took.
It took a few weeks to get back on my feet, even now it’s difficult to concentrate on things. Yes, there’s a new family member sleeping on the couch, she needed a home and we gave it to her. It would be unfair, to expect of her to grow up with the same wisdom and compassion Fatih had, but time will make us friends too, I’m sure. And no, she can’t replace a lifetime friendship, but she’s naughty, needs attention, a lot of education to get the wild Portuguese temperament under control, and of course love. At least she keeps me busy and makes me laugh every now and then. I’m in between getting to know her, Ella, and missing my best friend ever. Yes, I dare to say that no loss of a family member ever hurt so much, even though he was the one on four legs. Maybe it explains my relation to humanity but I know what I feel. While the little new one is on my lap, licking the tears off my cheek, I think it will all work out and we’ll get on with our daily doings. However, it won’t stop me from remembering and feeling the loss. I don’t believe in heaven, but if there would be one I would want it to be a rocky landscape at the seaside, with lots of adventure holes and a drive-thru where they give away “Hema” sausages. He deserves it so much…
Nineteen years and six months we enjoyed each other’s company, trusted one another for the full hundred percent, had lot’s of laughs and shared moments of pain and grieve. Loyalty beyond any doubt, unconditional friendship, mutual respect until the day I had to put him in his grave and was putting the soil on top of my best friend ever. I cried for days because I knew that moment of saying farewell was nearby, he knew it to and seemed to be ready to leave. I still can’t see a picture of him without bursting into tears, even my laptop keys are wet while writing this in memory of Fatih.
The unidentifiable beauty hidden in mourning is that I suddenly remember adventures I forgot. Happy day’s, exciting times, beautiful views we saw together and the silly things we did. The first rat he caught in Portugal and proudly presented on our bed, the first time he defended his new territory and scared of 3 big dogs. That day when he shredded the coat of a customer that kept me busy for more than 3 hours in my Dutch shop and he thought that it was enough. The time we ordered a hamburger for both of us and the lady asked; “How many you said? He barked twice. But also the times he knew I was worried or hurt and wouldn’t leave my site for anything or anyone.
He was there at all the important moments in my life so far. The first radio show I did, the first time I laid eyes on the love of my life, at the moment I said “Yes I do”, when we celebrated the prizes we won with our framing-shop, when the first stone was placed while restoring the old ruin that’s now is my workshop, on my journey to Portugal he sat beside me the whole 2500 kilometers, he was there all the years I was restoring our cottage and celebrated when we were finished. Where ever I was the last 19 years, he would be next to me. Watching the same things I saw, walking the same meandering path I took.
It took a few weeks to get back on my feet, even now it’s difficult to concentrate on things. Yes, there’s a new family member sleeping on the couch, she needed a home and we gave it to her. It would be unfair, to expect of her to grow up with the same wisdom and compassion Fatih had, but time will make us friends too, I’m sure. And no, she can’t replace a lifetime friendship, but she’s naughty, needs attention, a lot of education to get the wild Portuguese temperament under control, and of course love. At least she keeps me busy and makes me laugh every now and then. I’m in between getting to know her, Ella, and missing my best friend ever. Yes, I dare to say that no loss of a family member ever hurt so much, even though he was the one on four legs. Maybe it explains my relation to humanity but I know what I feel. While the little new one is on my lap, licking the tears off my cheek, I think it will all work out and we’ll get on with our daily doings. However, it won’t stop me from remembering and feeling the loss. I don’t believe in heaven, but if there would be one I would want it to be a rocky landscape at the seaside, with lots of adventure holes and a drive-thru where they give away “Hema” sausages. He deserves it so much…
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