While I already have several books that I'm not working enough on (Ordinary People & The Road Ahead e.g.), I figured let's start a new one haha!
Well, not really...
Like the title says, this is not a book. It's a collection of random thoughts and ar...
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June 30th, 2017
Obviously, she wasn't really my aunt, but our family has always had a thing for descriptive nouns. Aunt Alice, Uncle Brother, or simply Ma and Pa. Apparently, I wasn't the only one who thought or family's structure was rather complex, and the decision had been made at one point that it would be easier for everyone if some additional information was added to certain people's names. It took me a bit longer than I would like to admit, before I figured out these people also had a different - real - name.
As a child, I enjoyed visiting her at her home in Kalmthout. I'll admit I was mostly excited to play in that fantastic garden, or to lose myself in the many rooms of that big house, filled with wondrous artefacts. I'm still convinced that somewhere hidden in that house, lies the secret passage to Narnia or Neverland.
Maybe, I used to be a little afraid of Aunt Alice. After all, she could appear to be quite strict. But then there was Debbie. The Yin to Alice's Yang. Spending time with Alice and Debbie always was a little bit 'Absolutely Fabulous'. An unlikely comedic duo. A little bit like Bert and Ernie, and I do mean that with the upmost respect.
At her funeral, there are undoubtedly people present who knew Alice only as Ma'am the President. A tough lady. These people might be slightly confused by how I saw and knew her, but then again, for me she was just 'aunt', not 'judge'.
Which doesn't mean that what she has accomplished in her career has passed me by. Far from it.
Aunt Alice shattered glass ceilings long before people were even discussing those. It is practically impossible for people born in my generation, to comprehend how hard she had to fight.
In 1966, a chauvinistic James Brown sang "It's a man's world, but it would be nothing without a woman." At that time, a 37-year-old Alice, had been proving that for years. She was the very first woman in the Benelux to eventually be appointed Supreme President of the Court of Appeals. Where I live, we call someone like that a trailblazer. Alice De Man deserves all respect. A Grand Dame. A tough lady. A strong woman.
The last few years went ever more difficult. After the cerebral hemorrhage, she had to sacrifice a lot of her strength. Mentally she remained very sharp. The first time I went to visit her in the nursing home, she was digging through legal contracts of friends, so she could provide ample advice.
These last few weeks, that wouldn't be possible anymore. She was tired, and talking at length was challenging. That didn't prevent her from telling me over and over that "you look like your dad" and how terribly "your mother misses you ever since you left for Canada." "How's Julie by the way?" she would never fail to ask, even if it cost her most of her energy. I know, I miss them too, and things are going great with Julie, my sweet aunt.
The last time I saw her was only a few days before she passed away. With a smile on her face, and many gestures (incl. flexed biceps), she gave me her very last message: "Never give in. We are strong."
Alice, you were indeed.
It went very fast after that. She had to give in after all. It appeared as if she refused to fight a long and draining battle, one that no one can ever win. No, that wasn't necessary anymore. It had been a good ride, and if she had to cease the fight, then it was going to be on her terms!
To be honest, I wouldn't have expected it any other way.
Just like dad, I will miss you very hard. I'm so sorry I couldn't be here today, but I am thankful to have spent those last moments with you. I will always remember you as that strong lady, with her flexed biceps and slightly mischievous smile on her face, with a mentality that confidently said: "Let them come."
