Up at 6 a.m. Mama Irma slept a little. Mem slept well. Me too.
I go for a swim at Daaibooi. It’s always lovely there early in the morning. Lots of soldiers there, a boat exercise…
At home, a nice cup of coffee and breakfast: gingerbread, bread and a hard-boiled egg. I think I need some salt…
I’ve arranged to go with Mem to Uncle Hoebie’s in Cholomo. It’s a 45-minute drive.
Uncle Hoebie is already standing in the doorway when we arrive. He shows us around. It’s beautiful, new curtains, new windows, bedrooms all done, he can move in any time. But a toilet bowl still needs to be replaced, then I can move in, he says.
Mem chats away with Hoebie about all his tools and how he tackled the renovation. They are both handymen, but Hoebie has the tools!
On the way back, we drive past Indra’s house on Chonchogoraiweg. Indra isn’t there, Guus is sitting on the porch, but he doesn’t have much to miss. When I ask him about his health, he dismisses the question. When I then ask about Indra’s health, he says, ‘You have her phone number, call her.’ Mum and I leave quickly.
Then we visit Nilda Supriano, in whose house we lived a long time ago. Mem talks to Nilda about her family. Nilda’s maiden name is Haseth, and they have many connections through cousins, Mercelina, and family in Willibrordus. I also hear the name Tool van Uitregt.
We are also allowed to look in the memorial room (formerly Bram’s room) where there are mementos of Edgar Supriano, the famous trumpet player. Mem knows all the band members by name.
We are given mangoes; the tree in the back garden is full of them and the sweet smell of ripe mangoes fills the garden. Janus had already given us bananas in the morning when we stopped by. It looks like a greengrocer’s shop in the back of the car.
Once home, I chat with Mama Irma, who is sitting in her chair. She has eaten some sopi galiña. She wants to go to the toilet. Mem lifts her out of the chair, but it’s not easy. ‘Konjo,’ she calls out… I say that this is a new word for me, ‘un palabra nobo,’ ‘that I haven’t learned yet from my “professoressa di papiamentu”.’
Thelma offers us some more ‘lengua di bacca,’ mmmmm, a delicious dish.
After a 5-minute siesta, I go to the bay at 4:30 p.m.
I enjoy a swim and some reading.
I return at 7 p.m. and Jeanette is with Mama Irma. Jeanette is such a lovely woman. Yesterday she had a flat tyre, but that was quickly fixed by a neighbour who happened to be passing by. Everyone helps each other here. It’s wonderful!
A lovely tropical evening, a little wind, I can’t hear any noises from the “snekkie”, it’s quiet there tonight.
At 9.30 p.m. I go to bed.

Up early and… when I ask Mama Irma Irma how she slept, she says ‘basta bon’. Is that the power of habit? Or did she just sleep reasonably well? No one knows. Not even Mama Irma herself. I help Mem with Mama Irma’s mouthwash routine. Mem has stopped giving Mama Irma her stomach medication. Her stomach is now well protected with a gel around it…
I tell Mama Irma that I’m going to mass, papia ku Dios pa yuda bo, pa duna forza.
There is lovely singing in the church again and there is a party for the scouts, who are sitting in the pews with a group of twenty and are brought to the front at the end of Mass. Bendicion! It is also someone’s birthday, so at the end of Mass we sing “happy birthday”…
At 10 a.m. Mem and I go to the Daniel country house, where there is a ‘marshe’. Marie Louise and Dorette are already there, as I had arranged, so we drink coffee together and talk, also about Mama Irma. Dorette has a story about saying farewell, saying goodbye to the physical body of this life. Her father died and was convinced that he would be reunited with his father and mother. Her husband died and felt the same way. Dorette says she knows that this is true, there is no question about it.
Back home, Mama Irma is eating jambo cu funchi, Thelma serves me a plate too, mmmm.
I have a long phone call with Moniek and ask her if she wants to come over.
At 4 p.m., we go for a nice swim. It’s a hot day here, even though there’s a breeze. The heat makes you tired.
I call Uncle Hoebi to see if he’ll be there tomorrow, then Mem and I will go there tomorrow.
Jeanette is doing the evening shift; she comes to change the nappy.
At 9.30 p.m., we go to bed.

Up at 6:15 a.m. Mama Irma slept well and says ‘basta bon’ when I ask how she is. ‘Today is the last time for Nemex,’ the medicine to protect the stomach, says Mem… Thank goodness, because Mama thinks it’s disgusting when Mem squirts it into her mouth with a tube.
I go for a swim at Karakter. On weekends, Daaibooi is already busy in the morning, with large families coming to barbecue with tents and such, smoke and fire early in the morning…
I also took a look at Carmen’s house, where there is a small leak in the boiler and the door no longer opens properly. I’ll go back with Mem later to repair it.
At home, I have a cup of coffee with an ‘arepa di pampuna’. Then I do the laundry, it is Saturday after all! Easy, dry quickly!
Then back to Villa Kadushi with Mem, taking a screwdriver and a saw with us. We sawed under the door to trim the bottom beam, which had absorbed rain and swelled up. It would be better to remove the door and shave off a millimetre or two, but this will do for now.
On the way back, we stopped by Stella’s, who has a lot of visitors from the Netherlands, so we left quickly. I promise to come back next week when the family has returned to the Netherlands.
Then I stopped by at Norma’s, who was celebrating her birthday.
Norma talks non-stop about her Lucio, who died of cancer a few years ago. She starts talking about it because I mention that Mama Irma hardly eats or drinks anymore. That was also the case with Lucio. I remember Lucio well, he was a nice man. Bram and I once wanted to buy his American car, but it had just been sold. Recently, I saw it in a garage, Stella’s garage. Mem told me that her son had bought it. Anyway, when I arrived in Curaçao, I heard the next day that Lucio was in hospital. I went straight there and was able to talk to him for a while. He died the next day. Norma talks on and on as if she has never been able to get it off her chest before. I ask if she wants to come with me to Irma’s, but she says no.
Thelma comes at 1 p.m. to bring lunch: cow tongue, lenga di baca, mmmmmm…. She is such a good cook. I feel very spoiled here. It’s like a restaurant! On weekends, Thelma is here from early morning until late afternoon, because then there is no nurse.
After lunch, we lift Mama Irma back into bed. Today she ate a little something again. But she’s talking strangely, says Mem, confused, telling a story about goats. She never ate goat meat again after she saw a goat being slaughtered with a baby goat inside. Something like that…
After a very short siesta, I go to Tera Cora because one of the tyres is getting flatter. Yesterday I had all four checked for air, but the rear right one is always a little flatter. And yes, sure enough… the valve is broken. New valve in, 16 guilders to pay and we’re on the road again…
At 5 p.m., after talking to Mama Irma about where she used to live, which she can tell very well: Porto Marie, Daniel, Willibrordus where Stone Fence is now, Willibrordus where she lives now, we go swimming.
Back from swimming. A quick bite to eat. At 8 p.m., good old Jeanette arrives. She looks tired, busy day at Hato. She checks the nappy. No mester cambia, and she goes home, bathes and goes to bed, because tomorrow morning at 6.30 a.m. she’ll come back to check on us.

Woke up at 6:30 a.m. Same as last week, when we travelled to Schiphol Airport. Now I’m checking on Mama Irma. She’s already awake, just like Mem. We chat a bit about sleeping and dreams, drumi i sonya.
Then off to Jan Doret, to Miss Sjadezka at Santa Klara College. She wants some help in October to stimulate reading enjoyment among the pupils; she thinks there is a poor reading culture.
She promises to inform Theo Tielman, an official at the Roman Catholic Church, and to set things in motion for approval by the continuing education department.
Picked up some groceries from Centrum and stopped by Janus with a coffee roll to thank him for his help yesterday. Good guy, that Janus!
Had some salad for lunch.
Siesta.
At 4 p.m., I went to Elly, the innovation coordinator at RKCS; it’s her birthday and she invited Edgar, me and some other officials for a drink. It was very nice and fun to see her new house in Curasol, near Blue Bay. And her new dog, Reina, who came running up to her and stayed..
Home at 7.30 p.m.
Made a sandwich and chatted with Mem, who told me that Mum doesn’t like Ensure, the protein drink they give her.
I sat outside and looked at the full moon. Beautiful. How many full moons have I seen here?
The little man in the moon
What harm has he done?
Once upon a time, it was winter, bitterly cold
He had no coal and no wood
So he went to the forest
And stole a bundle of wood
If only he hadn’t done that
Then he wouldn’t be standing in the moon now.
This rhyme came to mind; my father always recited it to us.
At 9.30 p.m., I went to bed after reading another chapter of The Bonfire of the Vanities.

Must have been tired. Woke up at 6:45 a.m.
Helped Mem. Rinsed Mama Irma’s mouth, gave her medicine to protect her stomach.
She doesn’t want it and then we get into an argument: ‘Mi ta papia ku DIos ku e tuma mi,’ says Mama Irma. Mem: papia ku Dios ku e ta yuda bo, pa Mem, pa Thelma, pa Guus….
I talked about it at length yesterday with MarieLouise, who worked in a hospice for years. Yes, that’s how it goes, I would say leave Mama Irma alone and be a little loving, hold her hand, stroke her. Mem speaks in a commanding tone: ‘abri boca, medicijn ta bon pa bo’ (open your mouth, the medicine is good for you). Even when the phone rings and someone asks for Irma, I hear Mem say, ‘e ta bon’ (she’s fine), while she lies there so weak in bed and can’t do anything anymore, just lie there and sleep and be tired.
Mem starts the car to see if there is a leak in the radiator overflow tank. He sees a small leak. He accelerates again to see if it gets worse. Bang! The throttle cable breaks. Ouch, ouch, ouch.
I call Janus for advice. He suggests temporarily attaching the throttle cable to another wire. Mem follows his advice. I agree to go to him at 10:30 a.m., after the online court hearing.
Mem comes to sit down and says that the nurse told her that Mama Irma has bedsores. It’s better to lay her on her side.
He wonders why all this has to happen at the end of life. Why doesn’t God come and take her? That would be better…
Thelma arrives around 10:15 a.m., just as the court session with the judge is over. I have had my say about the two plots that I believe should be one. The judge says that if they were one, an extra driveway could still be built.

However, the judge is surprised that municipal green space has been lost and that this has not been discussed.
The ruling will be given in six weeks.
When we arrive at Janus’s door at 11 a.m., he is not there. I call him and he says he has called me twice. After checking, it turns out that he called my old chippie number from my old Nokia phone.
He says, ‘Just wait, I’m on my way.’
He gets to work on the bicycle brake cable we bought at Lily’s on Tera Cora, right next to the petrol station. This type of brake cable has exactly the same connection that you thread through an eye.
Once again, Janus proves what a skilled mechanic he is. After 45 minutes, the job is done. When I ask him how much I owe him, he says, ‘Just give me whatever you want, you’re my friend.’ I give him thirty guilders and ask if that’s enough. Yes, says Janus, give it to the boy (his assistant).
Back home, where Thelma has bought extra materials to prevent bedsores, a kind of slippers made of light foam rubber that you put on your feet.
A short siesta. Fifteen minutes, but refreshing nonetheless.
At 4:30 p.m., I drive into town. I have arranged to meet three former students from Radulphus: Valentina, Norediz and Natalie at De Gouverneur in Otrobanda. It was very pleasant, reminiscing about when I taught here and when they and we went to the Netherlands.
Valentina went to live on Vossedijk in Nijmegen and I visited her there once to see how she was doing.
I chatted with Norediz about Maastricht, where she went to study. She moved to Wyck and says it’s just like here, Wyck and the bridge to Maastricht, Punda and the bridge to Otrobanda.
I got home at 9:30 p.m. All dark with Mem and Mama Irma. Off to bed.

At 6 a.m. Jeanette is already here before she leaves for work. Mem gives Mama Irma her medication. I ask how long this needs to continue, because the medicine is almost gone.
Mem goes to Soto and asks if I can look after Mama Irma. It gets dark and a rain shower breaks out. You know those tropical showers, pouring rain for 15 to 20 minutes.
I sit with Mama Irma and chat a bit, but she is tired and wants to sleep. I ask her where she was born and want to talk about it a little, but she says, ‘mi no recorda’ (I don’t remember).
At 10:00, I head into town. Just to get away for a bit. I’ve arranged to have lunch with MarieLouise. At Number Ten.
First, I pop into Sambil to buy some new slippers and go to the bank to exchange some ‘old’ money. The shops in Sambil don’t open until 11:00. Oh well. There are at least 20 people waiting in front of me at the bank. Oh well.
So I head to Number Ten, right on time. I made a reservation and have a nice table with the Scrabble letters PERRY on it. I have a nice chat with MarieLouise. It’s always very familiar and just like we met the other day.
After lunch, back to the bank. Now only an hour and a half’s wait to exchange NAF 80 for XCG 80. It’s done in three minutes and credited to my account.
Then I get some new slippers at All Star: Reef.
Back home, I sit down with Mama Irma for a while.
Swimming at Karakter, where I see a pelican with a white cap, a sister pelican, who may be coming to help Mama Irma.
Mem watches baseball and I chat with Mama Irma for a while.
20:45, off to bed.

Woke up at 6 a.m.
Morning ritual at 6:15 a.m.: Mem helps rinse mouth, rinse, gargle, rinse, spit a little, rinse, administer stomach medicine with a syringe, rinse, wash face a little, rinse. Nurse Mem!
Then Mum calls out that she is suffering from wimpiris.
Mem rigorously grabs the spray bottle with Baigon and sprays the nasty stuff all around Mama Irma. It reminds me of about 40 years ago when Moniek and I were invited to Luudje’s house at Radulphus College as new teachers. When Luudje, a colleague, was putting her child to bed, she sprayed a generous amount of Saigon into the room from the doorway (which was slightly ajar).
Brother Mem then puts some glacial on her face. Glacial, air conditioning in a bottle, Mem says. That freshens things up a bit.
I rub her arms and legs with Rituals oil that I bought at Schiphol on Moniek’s recommendation.
At 7:30 a.m., I go for a swim at Daaibooi. There is only one family on the beach. It is lovely and quiet early in the morning.
I fill a bottle with sea water for Norma’s hair. She wanted to visit Mama Irma, but she has a slight cold, so that is not going to happen.
Back home, the nurse is there. She diagnoses diarrhoea; the oats, a brand called “pappa” that they give her, are no longer allowed… The soles of her feet have also become soft, a bit of bedsore, says the nurse, who has rubbed her with udder ointment, a Danish remedy that is supposed to help with bedsores.
I go to Duzu, dry cleaning, to drop off some clothes for the dry cleaner and do some shopping at California Supermarket on Tera Cora. I also fill up the car and see how that works with a fuel card. Lunch. I am spoiled again by Thelma, who has cooked bakiou ku bakoba ku rice… mmmm…
In the afternoon, after a very short siesta, I receive a message from Edgar that he is stepping down as director of education. He is becoming director of Frater Aurelio SBO. I am surprised, but I can well imagine that he wants a slightly quieter job. As director of education, he is responsible for 48 schools, including primary, secondary, special needs and vocational education. That is quite a task. A little later, I receive a message from Elly. She writes that I already know… I promise to call her in the evening. She will be disappointed, as she gets on very well with Edgar.
In the evening, I sit with Mama Irma for a while. She is tired and dozing on the bed.
I go to bed at 9.30 p.m. after a long chat with Elly.

6:15 a.m. I receive a photo from Moniek of our vegetable garden, with beans and courgettes—a beautiful harvest.
I go to Mama Irma. Wimpiris. I wave the newspaper (Extra from 25 Yüni 2025) over her face to keep those damn bugs away. There is little wind in her room, outside it is a little cooler, no sun, clouds.
At 7:30 a.m., I go to Daaibooi. Lovely to be all alone, just me, some wimpiris and fish. At 8:00 a.m. I have company: the Daaibooi container, the diving school, opens.
The sun comes out.
Swam ten laps and read a chapter from The Bonfire of the Vanities by Tom Wolfe. A whirlwind story.
Back home, a nurse comes to wash Mama Irma, who is in bed.
Mem makes soup and she actually drinks half a cup of it. Let’s hope it stays down. We chat a bit, repeat the story of Michael Wawoe, now for Mem, who in turn mentions that Michael Wawoe is a crook, a big crook…
I visit Stella. She appears in a beautiful dress, turns out it’s her birthday today and she’s about to go out with her family. ‘Will you come back tomorrow?’ she asks.
On my way back, I end up at Norma’s, Norma from the kunuku house. She tells me that the snack bar on the corner, the snekkie, is open again. A beer costs 4 guilders….!
Back home, I make a salad. Mmm.
I chat with Mem for a while. He tells me that Zaïre, his daughter, is coming over later and wants to go swimming at Habitat. We had more or less agreed on that yesterday. It’s good for her, says Mem. Zaïre had a bout of delirium last August, she doesn’t always talk very easily and her coordination sometimes leaves something to be desired. I’m curious how it will go on the beach.
The swimming is wonderful. Zaire floats around a bit, like all Antilleans swim. When I suggest swimming to the “otro banda” and do a few lengths, I hear ‘no, no, no, no’…
The water temperature is lovely.
We lie on a sunbed and order something to drink and later something to eat.
Home at 6.30 p.m.
The evening ritual is sitting with Mama Irma and holding her hand.
Mum closes the door at 8 p.m.
I read some more in Het vreugdevuur der Ijdelheden (The Bonfire of Vanities).
Bed at 9 p.m.

Woke up at 6 a.m. and got up immediately. Mum opened the back door at 6.10 a.m. I immediately went to check on Mama Irma, who said she had slept well.

At 6:30 a.m., Jeanette arrives. She has to go back to Hato for work. Last time we met, we talked about her job: KLM is a clean airline; they change the pillowcases in Curaçao. Corendon doesn’t do this; they only do it in Amsterdam. Yuck!

It’s Sunday, so it’s time for church at 7:30 a.m. I take some money with me for the collection; I still have some old 5-guilder coins, which I’m sure the priest will know what to do with.

What wonderful singing, it’s a shame I can’t always hear which song they’re singing from the missal. Often I realise too late, sometimes I peek at the page my neighbour is reading in her missal.

At the end of the service, people come forward: a boy celebrating his birthday, a man and a woman who have been married for so many years, and another lady, whom I don’t recognise, probably also celebrating her birthday.

Kayotshi, Anthy’s brother who passed away in February, is also in the church.

I don’t see Stella. Stella, who, with her confused mind, often sent me the same answer five times to a WhatsApp message. Mem tells me that her son has come from the Netherlands to help. I’ll look for her tomorrow or Tuesday.

After mass, Mama Irma’s neighbour comes by with a friend. We chat for a while. The joke about Jan comes up again, who, after years in Curaçao, mispronounces Tera Cora, putting the emphasis on Te and Co… Teeeera Coooora… Mama Irma laughs, she and I have made that joke many times.

Connie drops by on her way back from the cattery. I make a salad and we chat happily, she about her scary adventure climbing out of her bedroom window because the door lock was jammed. And how skilfully – and fearfully – she did it. Later it turns out that there was another window in the room through which she could have escaped more easily, according to Prash. Tunnel vision, just like me when I came back from Switzerland… just keep going and don’t think…

Also about Loek, whom she knows from her past here on the island. About her trip to Italy, about the long drive back (that has to be different next year).

When Connie goes home, I go back to sit with Mama Irma. Mama Irma is asleep and wakes up with a memory: Michael Wawoe, yes, that’s right, the one who often cooked “kabritu stoba” at Indra’s house, stabbed Thelma with a sharp object at school when they were children. She screamed. When the ‘soer’ arrived, Michael said that Thelma had stabbed him. Michael was sent away and Thelma had to stay at school as punishment. When she didn’t come home, Mama became worried. She went to school to see what was going on. Thelma told her mother what had happened. Mama Irma became so angry that she told the ‘soor’ the truth, took Thelma home immediately, and left the “soor” stunned.

After this story, I ask Mam Irma if she would like something to drink. ‘No, mas akiratu,’ she says, or ‘mañan,’ or ‘warda un tiki.’

We also sing a song from the bapor frances:

Nos ta bai Hulanda den bapor franses

Su master ta di oro

Bandera hulandes

Ponchi riba ponchi

Hende riba hende

Sombré ku sinta pretu

Hulanda nos ta bai

Mama and I have sung this many times and we always laugh out loud…

Suddenly, Zaira appears in the doorway. Zaira, who had a bout of delirium last August and still has difficulty speaking, coordinating her movements and more.

We chat about her therapy at the Verriet clinic. I tell her I’m going swimming and spontaneously ask if she wants to come. Mem says swimming would be good for her too. She wants to come tomorrow, Monday. I wonder if that will work out.

I go to Habitat without Zaire. As I drive there, it starts to rain heavily. But ten minutes later, it’s over. It’s a lovely to swim. I swim my ten laps, lie down on a beach chair and bump into Angelina. She has passed her exams. ‘I passed, I passed,’ she shouts at me. When I was there in February, I saw her more often; she only works on Sundays. That’s when I heard that she was taking her A-Level exams, at MIL, and that it would be touch and go, if she passed at all. I told her that I know Pamela, the deputy headmistress at MIL.

Back home, I sit with Mem, who is very tired, until 8 p.m.. Then Mem closes the door. He wants to go to bed early.

I wake up at 6:15 a.m. The back door at Mama Irma’s is already open. I quickly go and check how she is doing. Mem always checks on Mama during the night when he needs to go to the toilet.

At 6:30 a.m., Jeanette comes to check on her. Immediately, the place comes to life! Jeanette is working the day shift and will come back around 7:00 p.m.

I sit with Mama Irma, and we chat a bit, although my Papiamento is not always sufficient.

From her room, I can see the old Samurai and the church through the window, two familiar sights. Tomorrow I will go to church again at 7:30 a.m., not that I am very religious, but Mama Irma always asks me to “papia ku Dios, pa forza”.

I stay with Mama Irma for a while.

Thelma arrives around 9 a.m. to bathe Mama Irma.

I tell Mem that I’m going to do some shopping in the city centre. Mem wants to come along and visit his friend Ronnie. I drop him off there and go to the city centre. My usual routine: withdraw money from the ATM. There’s new money! Brand new paper money. Beautiful images from the underwater world.

The ten-guilder note, mainly yellow, shows the black keizervis and Klein Curaçao on the other side.

The twenty-guilder note is mainly blue and shows the spotted eagle ray and Simpson Bay on Sint Maarten.

The fifty-guilder note is mainly green and shows a green sea turtle on the front and the bay of Grote Knip on the back.

The hundred guilder note shows the traffic light parrotfish and The Courthouse on Sint Maarten.

The two hundred guilder note is purple and shows a long-snouted seahorse and, on the back, the famous Emma Bridge, the ferry bridge of Curaçao. (I’ve heard this, I haven’t seen it myself yet).

Groceries in.

Didn’t see anyone I knew at the supermarket. I pick up Mem and chat with Vincent, Ronnie’s son. Vincent is a biology teacher at Mil and used to teach at the school next door, Maria College. Last year he taught at one school, which was wonderful, such a pleasant place to work. ‘I hope it works out the same way next school year, that I only have to work at MIL. It depends on the hours.’

Back home, I quickly put all the groceries in the fridge and sit down next to Mama Irma on a chair. We chat a bit and I massage her arms and legs with Rituals.

Thelma brings me dinner: rice with fried banana and masbangu, delicious, hopi diushi…

After dinner, it’s time for a siesta. I’m tired and haven’t settled into a good rhythm yet.

I prepare a document for Edgar, who asks me if I can do something for Brother Aurelio SBO. I sent him a message saying that I’ll be in Curaçao for two weeks. He knows exactly where to find me, haha.

While I’m sitting with Mama, a woman named Larissa comes in. She tells me that she has emigrated to Curaçao and is looking for a house. She is currently living temporarily in a friend’s house in Coral Estate. She used to be a funeral director in the Netherlands and thinks that Mama Irma has two or three weeks left to live. In the evening, I read a lot about dying on thuisarts.nl and zin.nl. The seven last steps when you are dying. One of them is sleeping a lot, which is what Mama Irma is doing, another is hardly eating or drinking, which she is also doing.

At 9 p.m., tired, I go to bed. I read a little more in Voel maar by Jan Brokken.

Earlier, I read De droevige kampioen (The Sad Champion) about Riki Marchena, a table tennis champion from Parera. Riki read many books in prison, one of which was “Also sprach Zarathustra” by Nietzsche. After Riki was released from prison, he went door to door washing cars. That’s how he ended up with Jan Brokken, who, while talking to Riki, recognised a quote from Zarathustra that Riki used in response to one of Jan Brokken’s questions. That’s how he got the idea to write the book.

Went to bed at 9:15 p.m. Tired.