On January 1, 1994, a few months after I graduated, my mother Hertha Gladys Liong-A-Kong – Ritfeld, passed away. Less than a month earlier, she had been admitted to the Diakonesse Hospital after months of research had revealed stomach cancer. During those months of research, she had been in pain, a lot of pain. My father kept my brother and I, who lived in the Netherlands, informed.
Once the disease was diagnosed, my brother and I flew almost immediately to Suriname to be with her and the rest of the family for the operation. I could not imagine a life without my mother and not a hair on my head thought for a second that she would not recover.
My mother was never sick as far as I can remember. In my entire life my mother was in the hospital once for appendicitis, but otherwise she was a super healthy person.
Healthy eating, vegetables every day and sports were instilled in us from birth. Even at the age of 55, she played basketball three times a week at Oase with her women's club. When she wasn't playing basketball, I would also go for a run with her. Sometimes we went to the Cultuur Tuin, but later we just walked around the project where we lived. Shorts on, fries on and off we went. Now that I look back, that was quality time. I also have to laugh when I think about the time when we still lived in Wagenining in the Nickerie District.
One evening, I don't even remember how we got the idea, we were going to go running with the whole family. All of us, everyone, the five of us, my brother, sister, father, mother and me. We lived at Parkweg number five and we would run laps around the park. Even I, who wasn't really fond of jogging, felt like it.
What I remember is my dad, who has always been super healthy and is still healthy today, thank God, sitting on the couch with a beer when we, the rest of the family, came home sweating and exhausted. When my mom asked “Where were you?” he said, I went for a run. You know, you have to build these things up. I’m going to build it up slowly. You understand that was the last time we ever tried to jog together, but apart from that we were a sporty family.
Besides my father, as befits a founder of Real Sranan , always playing football, my parents often played sports together. They played volleyball, tennis and basketball together.
Healthy food was at least as important. My mother, who was a very good cook, my friends still talk about her Pom and Bruine Bonen, prepared delicious meals every day. She insisted on not using too much oil and fats, not too much rice but more vegetables. Fruit was also an important part. Apart from the fact that we had apple trees that were almost always in bloom, we also always had oranges, mangoes or other fruit in the house. You can imagine how frightening it was when cancer was diagnosed.
I arrived in Suriname the day before she went under the knife. My dad took the whole family to the hospital to give her a pat on the back. I was so happy to see her. We all were. It was a wonderful get-together. I didn't realize that that was the last time we would all be together.
The cancer had spread too far. All the way to her lungs. That was causing the pain. Suddenly she was gone. The rest of the days passed in a flash. I can't really remember much, but it was the first time I experienced a Surinamese funeral so closely and that also affected me deeply.
Her beloved sisters had come over from the Netherlands, but also neighbors, friends, girlfriends from far and wide came to offer condolences, sing, bring food, we really didn't have to lift a finger. Roy and Patricia, age-old friends of the family, were completely in control. Until the day of the funeral, we remembered my mother together with stories and songs. That support really carries you through everything.
The day of the funeral is hazy to me. What I do remember is that the children of the neighborhood with pink and purple Bouganvilleas in their hands, waving, sang a song to say goodbye to my mother. That was beautiful, wonderful, I will always be grateful to them for that moment.
I have tried to capture my feelings in the poem below.
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My Mom My Mom Wan bun, bun libi suma Mama Mama, I want to be so happy Fa un lobi yu, ma mi no man feni wortu
Fu tak sa mi firi na in' mi ati But, I will give you all the health Alla lobi gi yu pikin, nanag yu masra Always you are the one who cares about you brasa
Always you are the one who is next to you Cowardly and those who are afraid Mama nanga un ati un sa brasa yu Lek wan gudu sa ben lob lafu, l eisi nanga ala ten jepi suma And baja nang yu lobi wan, un papa
Mom, you want to kiss me But you will not be able to eat any more Bika you turned to a hat So a hero loves a boy A lobi, krakti, nanga pasensi na ini wi Da wi sa memre yu nanga bun fur prisiri Mom we will never forget you Daisy, Jeffrey, Tineke, Mireille |
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I wish everyone who is still a mother or has a mother a very happy and loving Mother's Day.