Those who read my blog will know why I had to make this trip back to Holland. Others can find my last post about it here:
https://steemit.com/loss/@misslasvegas/i-had-sad-sad-news-last-night-and-i-need-your-help

source: pixabay.com

The slightly cursed traveler

Somehow I always seem to have something that goes wrong when I travel. It is hardly ever just smooth sailings. No - I've had my fair share of cancelled flights and long delays, traffic jams when you least need it and other hold ups. Nothing major, but still annoying. And this time was no exception. On the way to Holland and back.

The trip to Dublin port was easy. We did have to rush just a little as I had to drop off money to my friend who was taking care of our pony and cats while we were gone, one dog to the boarding kennels (because she's not great with other dogs) and the other to yet another friend. I didn't have the time to do this before we were traveling, so we had to do this all along the way. Then we had the 2 hour trip to the ports of Dublin, but other than annoyance that they charge you money for toll just before the ports, there was nothing major.
We made it with time left to breathe.

We arrived in Holyhead, Wales late at night and had a (more than) 6 hour drive ahead of us to Dover, where we would take another ferry to Calais in France. Upon arrival in Wales, I realized that my data on my phone wasn't working in the UK. Nice. I had no idea how to get from point A to Dover and of course I had no map. So I just started driving. Then I remembered that I had an old GPS in the car somewhere. Problem solved. We had ample time to get to Dover and I really needed some sleep as I didn't get much the 2 nights before or on the ferry. 5 hours in 48 hours time won't do much. My eldest daughter stayed up all this time too, but when my eldest son woke up, they switched places and I made him talk to me to keep me busy. At 4.30 a.m. my body just shut down so I decided to take a break and get some sleep.

After a 2 hour nap, I felt like new and at that point we only had another 2 hours of driving to do, which was a breeze.

There was a slight hold up around the Birmingham area and then again (of course) on the M25 past London.
We had to check in 1 hour before our ferry would leave and I had a very rare moment of having time 'left to spare'.
We were about 20 minutes from Dover when I told my daughter that we were about 30 minutes early. I shouldn't have said that because when the GPS told me we had only 7 minutes (!) to go, there was a huge hold up going towards the ports.

Traveling with me, is like traveling with Mr. Bean. Who is, by the way, the true inventor of the selfie (watch his movies...)

source: redbrick.com

When we passed an exit, I decided to take a chance and go another route. This seemed to go well until we actually came into the town. Somehow, they had decided that the holiday rush and huge amounts of tourists going through their town was the best time to do some work on the roads. It beats me how these people think. As a result, one lane was shut down and we were all waiting for this traffic light that would let you drive for 100 meters when green and stop for 3 minutes when red. At this speed, we would get to the ferry around the same time it would leave.
And to think that we were only about a mile from the docks made things even worse.
When we finally arrived, of course we knew we weren't the only ones. There were lines and lines of cars, with or without trailers, caravans, trucks etc. There didn't seem to be any checks before we entered the lines, just a guy sending us to a certain line, without checking our travel documents. To our surprise, our ferry was still there so there was still hope that we would make it to the memorial for my friend's son later that evening.
But that hope was soon lost when we first saw lots of cars pass us in another lane and just when I thought: 'They're letting them on OUR ferry', I saw the ferry's smoke hit the air and surely, minutes later it left!

When we finally came to the window to show our documents, I told the lady that I believed our ferry had gone.
She confirmed this, but the next ferry was leaving in half an hour... Hope restored.
Our ferry did leave eventually, but not 30 minutes but 90 minutes later!
By the time we got to France, it was too late to make it to the memorial on time. At this stage, we didn't even know where we would be staying yet! I had called one of my sisters, but she told me that she had late shift during the first few days of our stay, which meant she would sleep during the day. No time to have the kids. I was a little annoyed by that, but at the same time I can't blame anyone for not being like me. Another friend had offered to take the kids, but I couldn't get in touch with her. I ended up asking my daughter's boyfriend to log into my account and message her to call me.
We were an hour from our home place when she finally did.

She told me it was OK to bring the kids there only to call me back 10 minutes later to tell me that her husband (who I've known as long as she has) didn't agree. She said he would throw a hissy fit for weeks if she went in against him and I understood. I didn't have enough money to book us a stay somewhere. My daughter had offered to keep the kids busy, but that wasn't even an option at this point. As a final resort, I called my other sister. The one who just lost her husband only weeks before...
Of course, it was short notice, but she agreed. I had to call my friend, who was waiting for me, to let her know that I would see her the next day, not this night, because at this point I was beyond tired and it would have been a 1.5 hour drive to my sister and another 45 minutes to her house. She was disappointed, but understood.

It was about 12 a.m when we finally arrived at my sister's house.

The next day...

My eldest daughter and I made our way to my friend's house.

Her partner opened the door to us and gave us a long, strong hug. No words, because what do you say to a man who just lost his son? And this dad is not just the average dad. He is probably one of the best fathers I've ever met in my life. He's the kind of guy who would, after a long day at work and commute, still make time to build Lego with his sons and read them a story before bed time. He would spend all his spare time with them, never asking for some of his own. Camping, fishing, bringing them to volley ball or rugby. It was never too much.

And then my girl, the best friend anyone could ever wish for. The woman who works her butt off to give her boys everything they need and more.

Every meal was carefully cooked with love and she always made time for their stories.

I will never forget the look in their eyes....Something in them had died with him.

Not long after we arrived on their doorstep, their eldest son came in. 16 years old and trying to comfort us when he just lost his little brother and best buddy! I've hardly ever seen this kind of strength on a teenager. WOW!
My friend asked us if we wanted to come to the funeral home with them. In the past, I had never wanted to see anyone who died. Not my parents, not my best friend when he suddenly passed away nor my grandmother. I don't know what possessed me this time, but in Levy's case, I wanted to see him. I still don't know why.

When we entered the room, for a brief moment I thought he would open his eyes and get up to greet us, but in the back of my mind I knew that he never would. Tears fell down my cheeks as I was regretting not seeing him for 2 years. So much time in which I didn't see him grow into the young man he had become. But at the same time, I kept seeing his little (sometimes mischievous) and always smiling face and eyes. He always smiled, he was always in a good mood. Always ready to brighten up someone else's day. I didn't know him any different. He wouldn't have wanted anyone to have any regrets, for he had none. I turned around to find my daughter in tears, she opened up her arms and we hugged and cried. I think it was the first sign of emotion she showed since I first told her about this tragedy.

Strange evening

My kids were going to the camp side with my niece and her partner and daughter the next day, so I had no worries about them for a while. Camp-sides in Holland are nearly always fun-filled with pools, restaurants etc. so there would be enough to do for them.

T's (the father) family had been an enormous support up until then and continued to be until the funeral.
Someone made sure there was food while someone else took care of the housekeeping and his sister helped them with the funeral arrangements.

The evening was quiet, with not many visitors. There were times of pure sadness and tears, but also times of loud laughter. It's strange really to laugh in times like these and you'd almost feel guilty for doing so. But then you think of the boy who is no longer with us and you know: he would do the same and want others to just keep on laughing.

Then the time of trying to get some sleep came. I had the couch while my daughter was sleeping on an airbed on the floor. My friend (E.) had just gone upstairs, only to return back downstairs minutes later. She couldn't sleep.
Understandably so. I had just turned off all the lights except one small light beside the couch. We rolled another smoke (after all, we're in Holland) and as E. sat down, the light beside the TV turned back on. At this point I was too tired and foggy to think anything of it. After about a minute, she asked me if the light was already on.
I told her 'No, I just turned it off, I thought you had a remote or something.' E. tried to explain it by saying that I must not have switched it off properly. She had taken some sleeping aid she got from the doctor and said she thought they must be really good...😂😜I got up to check the light and discovered there was no normal switch, it was one of those sliders...You either turn it on or off, there's no in between and no chance to not turn it off properly.
I asked my daughter if she had gotten up from her airbed and zipped through the room like the Flash to throw us off. She replied: 'Yup, that's just me!'
E. then said: 'Screw me, now I also have a haunted house.'
At this point we were all roaring with laughter.
I'm still not sure what it was. What I am sure about is that the light turned on without anyone being near it. Whatever it was, it was the little break we all needed from our sadness.

Just for a while...

As I mentioned before, these last two weeks aren't possible to describe in just one post. I will try to write some of it in the @ecotrain question of the week for tomorrow. The more I think of it, the more important I feel it is.

Part of me wants to keep Levy's memory alive this way and part of me wants to share not only the sad moments, but also the love I've seen and felt all around us during this time. It was there. For sure.

Thank you for reading.