My dear mom passed away last Summer. During her life she often told me that she could sense things – like with her sixth sense. She also told me about some scary, mystical things that were more common in the Indonesian culture. So maybe that’s why I didn’t want to take her too seriously as a kid, regarding those things. But I simply couldn’t deny those signs that appeared just before and right after her decease. And you may call it mystical.
Santiago de Compostela
When she said goodbye to her body, I was travelling through Spain. My mom was religious – Catholic – and she liked going to church. She showed a lot of respect to churches, where she would pray for her loved ones. So I consider the following quite a coincidence.
During the years that I was living in Spain, I never visited Santiago de Compostela. But last year I actually did – because of a dear friend of mine, who lives nearby. So we visited its beautiful cathedral, when we arrived at this amazing city, and I really enjoyed it. By the way, for people who don’t know any latin: ‘composito tella’ means ‘burial ground’ – some say that’s the origin of ‘compostela’, yet others believe that its origin stems from ‘campus stellae’ (‘field of stars’).
Anyway, when I got into the cathedral, I saw some candles that you could light in exchange for a euro. Since I didn’t carry any coins, I asked my friend and her husband if they were having a euro coin on them, so that I could light one up. In a way I wanted to ask for two coins, but I thought it was a bit awkward to do so. And for two reasons: because I didn’t want to disturb my friends too much, and because I found it a bit strange to light a candle for my mom, while she was still alive: the idea was to honour my late dad, and send him some light and love. But I also wanted to light one for her, because I knew that my mom would have loved it. So I just lit one candle for my late dad, and at the same time I thought: this one is also a little bit for you, mom – and just a little bit, since she was still alive at that moment.
The End of the World
After our visit to the cathedral, my friends suggested that we should go to Finisterre. This village is for many pelgrims the ‘real’ end of their Camino (de Santiago). And the Romans saw it as ‘the end of the world’, since it’s one of the most western points of Spain/Europe. Normally you would have an amazing view across the ocean – one of the reasons why my friends wanted to show it to me – but for the strangest reason the view was blocked by a massive wall of fog. And by massive I meant, I couldn’t even imagine some kind of ocean view; you could see the rocks, the paths on which we were walking, but literally at the end of our paths, there was nothing to be seen; no cliffs, no nothing, just a thick fog. It looked like a filmset, created by the crew, for a movie full of mistery – like Harry Potter, The Hobbit, or The Lord of the Rings. My friend felt sorry for the ‘disappointing view’, but I thought it was kinda fascinating, ’cause of the surreal view and the rareness of it (especially in Summer).
Church
When I got back to Madrid, I stayed at a couple of different airbnb’s and hotels. And on the day that I checked out of one of the ‘mini hotels’ I got the news that my mom had passed away. I was overwhelmed of course, but because of my way to this other place – more of a bed & breakfast – I just ‘parked’ my emotions. When I got off the metro, and walked into the direction of my new place, I immediately saw this huge church standing out. I knew this amazing looking church (nowadays considered a cathedral) from my life in Madrid – with its five golden domes crowned by five crosses, standing on a plot of 756 square metres – but I wasn’t aware of the fact that it was actually in the same street as my bed & breakfast. And that I would spend the night over there – of all places – on this remarkable day. And with the church by my side, in my room, I allowed myself to start grieving.
Drives with my Mom
I rebooked my return flight that same day, so that I could fly home the following morning. And in the airplane I was grasping for ideas, things to mention in my farewell speech for my mom. I ended up with a central theme: the drives with my mom, in her car, since I loved cruising with her – especially as a teen. And because I cherished ‘the drives’ with her in her last years: my mom in her wheelchair, and me behind her, pushing her. Just the two of us, chatting and enjoying our surroundings, like we used to do in her car back then.
When I landed safely I walked into the direction of the baggage belts. I don’t know why, but the airport – Schiphol – had decided to put a real BMW sports car over there, on my way to those belts; parked in a box of glass. And not only that, along with some brand stickers, it was decorated with a number: the birth year of my mom’s. Guess my mom and I were on the same page about the central theme of my farewell speech. And building a church in Schiphol would have been a bit too much for the occasion anyway.
