The country I choose to live in - proud to live here

'Een laatste eer bewijzen' - RTL NIEUWS: http://youtu.be/q5chfZJeiuc

So before you click on this link, a fair warning. It will give you the goosebumps and very likely will make you cry.

The last week was horrible for my home country of choice, but everybody paid their respect to the victims of MH17. For me it was to lay down flowers at Schiphol, and of course, my flag was half staff yesterday and we followed the minute of silence.

But what these people did, is far more awesome. It was a hot day here yesterday, unusually hot for dutch circumstances even. But rather than going to the beach or pool or relaxing in their backyards, all those people came out to the highway to give the victims of MH17 an appropriate welcome. People of all ages and all social backgrounds, united in paying respect to those who were taken just too soon.

I feel blessed to live in a country like this. The Dutchies might come over cold and even rude to foreigners at times, but in times like this, they show who they are. I hope we can keep this spirit even after the victims got identified. I hope that we don't get caught up in everyday pity again. That we can keep this spirit alive. The victims families and friends will need our support and care also after the victims found their last resting place. Which might take months for some.

Our country isn't perfect. But as long as we're capable of this deep compassion, we aren't that bad, there's hope.

Schiphol airport, less than a week after the unthinkable

I apologize in advance for not being able to take pictures there. For not doing my "Schiphol" check in on Facebook. Schiphol was not what it usually is. My daughter and I have been there numerous times, and we love it - usually.
Schiphol today was different. There was no cheerfulness like usually. But today, the lump in my throat grew more and more from the minute we drove into the railway station underneath the airport. It grew when I purchased the flowers to lay down at Departure Hall 3. It grew while we went there, to that sea of flowers. The store clerk asked if it was a gift or... She didn't say anything more. As we went there, I could see in the faces of other people that they were fighting the same emotions. It was eerily silent there today. Not the Schiphol we know and love. Schiphol is a micro cosmos of mourning at this point. You catch yourself thinking what the passengers of MH17 did... Did they walk where we walk now? Did they go to Starbucks? You see every corner of Schiphol with different eyes than before. Through the eyes of those who were so close to death without being aware of it. I didn't even know anybody of those who were on that flight. And still, the lump in my throat grew with every step. Did they use this escalator?

As we arrived at the sea of flowers, the lump in my throat was so big I couldn't even talk anymore and my eyes were watering. I didn't know anybody of them, but I'm a mother. I can't imagine how hard it must be to lose your child like this. Or any loved one.

We laid down the flowers and almost escaped Schiphol. The horror was too close here. Too intensive. Schiphol these days is not for the faint at heart. And still, I'm glad we went. Glad we paid our respects to those people who died in the crash. That's all we can do. In times like this, maybe all we can do is to show that we're humans. That we care. That we haven't grown numb to events like this. Maybe that's what it's all about.

MH17 - or how everybody of us can become a victim of war

Given the most recent events, which left the whole world shocked, blogging about my hobby just doesn't seem appropriate. And given that one of my daughter's best friends saw them checking in when she just had returned from a vacation in Spain, it comes pretty close. I can't stop thinking about the passengers. They were probably cheerful, maybe a few who suffered from flight anxiety, but nobody could prepare them to what happened a few hours later. What does one feel in a passenger jet that was just targeted and hit by a rocket? Did they die immediately? Or did they have to live through those agonizing seconds from the impact of the rocket to the plane crashing down in rural Ukraine? What do you feel in such a moment? Did they pray? Closed their eyes and waited for the end to come? Think about their families they'd never see again? How much time to think you have in a few seconds? How many thoughts are racing through your mind on such a situation? I guess it's impossible to compare for us.

But one thing is for sure - they are war victims in a war that never played a role in their lives before Thursday. They died in a war that was never declared to them, out of nothing, because the pilot didn't avoid the area like many pilots did lately. They were on their way to have a great vacation or job obligations. This war in Oekraïne didn't play a role in their lives until Thursday. They lived lives like you and me, like your next neighbor maybe, and this is the thing that makes it so scary to us. It could happen to anybody. You don't have to live in a war zone to become a war victim. You actually only have to be at the wrong place at the wrong time, and you can become a victim of a war. Or a fatal car crash or natural disaster. Life can be over within seconds, and MH17 showed us again. It was our reality check we'd rather ignore. It can really happen to anybody, and even worse, it can hit twice at the same spot, like with that Australian family that lost family members a few months ago when a Malaysian Airlines plane just disappeared from the radar never to be found again, and that same family lost more members in the MH17 crash.

Hug your loved ones tight tonight.

Wild times!

Things are pretty wild right now, but in a good way. We're busy with remodeling my daughter's room and she's getting into that whole chalk paint thing. The dresser in Florence and Barcelona Orange in this blog is her first project, and given she's in that "I will paint everything that doesn't run away" stage, the shelf also got a make over.

Plus I'm trying to get my "I come to your home and paint your furniture" business off the ground. So it's wild - but good!