FAREWELL

Yesterday it buzzed. That which we had been waiting for so long, would have happened. There was a sigh. A tear in the kitchen. A hug. But it wasn't real yet, so we waved it away. A little. Every push notification from my RTL news app gave my bloodstream a catapult injection. Could this be the moment when I read that Eberhard van der Laan had passed away? The news did not come and it didn't feel pure to share what you had heard. Gossipy. Disaster touristy.

So a candle was lit and thoughts were given to that last Sunday evening in July. That evening when millions of people watched his last word. His wise words. His warm words. What an evening that was. We were together in an emotional rollercoaster. Everyone felt heavy the day after. We needed to talk about it. Aftercare.
 

For a time it seemed to go well. Our mayor remained our mayor. Fragile, but he stayed. When we threatened to forget, the letter came. Take good care of the city and of each other. With his ‘farewell’ underneath. The crowd in front of his house. He could no longer stand up and wave to the people. But it must have been comforting. For him, his wife, his children. To know you were so loved. Carried by your people. What made Eberhard cry at Abdelhak Nouri, the Moroccans and the F-side united at Nouri's house, that image repeated itself in another form for the official residence. Dear Eberhard. That and your warmth we will never, never, never forget. Farewell.