Sunday, July 28, 2019
For me, Johannes always was a strange and distant brother. He left our farm in Friesland (Holland) when I was 10 and I cried my heart out (without exactly knowing why) on the day we as a family waved him goodbye, on April 27 1967, the day he emigrated to Canada, 19 years old, while we stood on the quays of Rotterdam ... – he left his country by big boat / ocean steamer: the 'Maasdam', part of the HAL = Holland-Amerika-lijn. (Flying was not so common yet.)
In the evening of that day, we drove back to Friesland and on our way back we passed many villages with festoons and billboards with texts like: Long Live Our New Prince Royal! [And indeed: our present (2019) king was born on Johannes' emigration day.] For me, stupid innocent young boy, all these things appeared like a token, something magic, something full of sense. Since then I always cherised the number 27.
Later, I will add some more memories here, if I am allowed to.
May Johannes live for ever under the guidance and in the presence of the Lord, may he be kept in the hands of God and may the Lord grant us peace forever.
PS Unfortunately in the obituary / my brother Johannes' biography, paragraph 3, my partner since 15 years was omitted. I trust this will soon be corrected.
