December 1, 2015...the day Audrey received a phone call at work from an unknown number.
It would just be a harmless cyst you were going to have removed, she had told her daughter.
Nothing to worry about; a routine operation. But when that strange male voice on the other end of the line uttered the word "tumor," it was as if the ground sank beneath my feet.
One phone call that - looking back - would change our lives forever.
Mom and Dad wanted to spare me; save me from the bad news that maybe surgery could fix, that maybe I would never have to find out if you were cured.
Because that's what you do with the people you love: you spare them from any possible grief, even if that means keeping the truth from them.
How many times have I said that I'm a grown woman, that I can handle it quite well and that I'd rather know, so that I could at least be there for you and carry that damn disease with me.
Because carrying things together makes it more bearable.
8 years and 7 months, that's how long we lived with the cancer. And I could be angry about that, about the pain and the uncertainty that was there and how that creeping killer dominated our lives. But I refuse to, because Mom, I'm grateful for the years we still got with you.

And cancer, it is a wayward, dirty and unpredictable beast. Some miraculously get rid of it, others are mercilessly defeated by it at record speed, still others live with it invisibly and unfeelingly for years.
With Mom, it was 8 years and 7 months of hospital in & out, surgeries, treatments, radiation, ...

One year she was chemo free, and how we took it from there! 3 weeks America, you and I, mother and daughter. What a gift!

And that is also how I experienced you and my life, as one big gift.
And you can take that literally.

Because Gina and Walter would not be able to have children the doctors told them after a successful operation to remove the then cervical cancer.
And doctors and their science can and do great things, but miracles, only fate decides ... and Jean Marie Pfaff who led the Red Devils to the semi-finals at the World Cup in 86.
It was party time, all night long it seems, because 9 months later Audrey came into the world.
"Congratulations on your daughter," said the gynecologist, while Walter and Gina were expecting a son.
Not planned and certainly not expected, but oh so welcome; a girl that Gina would carry on her hands all her life. Her dream princess whom she took to trendy clothing stores and put on the most colorful dresses.
But little Audrey had nothing on fashion. Give her a pair of jeans, a t-shirt and... a horse.
Although you had to wait a while for it, Audrey, because maybe you found another, easier, hobby... But in spite of all your mom's efforts to let you try other hobbies, athletics, judo, swimming, classical dance... but always little Audrey was sick.
With a coupon from the Libelle for a horse ride, she got the bug.
Or rather, the microbe got her.
Gina and Walter knew that from then on not everything, but a lot, revolved around horses.
A few weeks ago Audrey wrote a farewell letter about this and so much more she is grateful to her mom for.


Letter to my mom.


Walter and Gina have been a strong brand for 42 years, originating at Le Cartonnage Vannesse & Bril in Anderlecht.
Gina worked there at the counter and Walter delivered glue to her colleague and friend Josianne.
When Walter decided one day to visit Josianne and met Gina there, the three of them agreed to end the work week in the then dancing 'The Lord' in Schepdaal.
Walter, at 29 years of age, you had shed your wild hair and your equally wild bachelor life and were ready to give love another chance.
At first you might have set your sights on Josianne earlier, if only because Gina was in a relationship at the time. But just a week later, the cards were very different....
Gina suddenly walked free and the rest ... the rest is history. One of almost half a century.
When you share so much time with someone, you don't remember who you are without the other person.

But Walter will figure out his plan, for 'tis a man who - dixit his daughter - can do anything.
He can clean, iron and even make a steak roquefort, because that is what his Gina last taught him, even though - let's face it - he prefers to eat his steak without roquefort.
The house may get a little messier, the table will not always be cleared as quickly and the dishes will stay a little longer.
But 'tis the couch that is empty and the spot in the bed that remains unoccupied; it is the life that can no longer be shared and the time that passes without her that will never get used. And about the man who initially did not want children, Gina said the following during her last weeks: "Scout, that's going to be his salvation.
Scout, the smallest male here present and at the same time their greatest happiness.
May the little bear here in front remind him later, not that his grandmother died, but that she lived.
Dear all, I'll spare you the menu of difficult terms and treatments, but in the winter of her life, Gina built up a medical record to be proud of.
The day clinic at the hospital in Geraardsbergen became a bit like a second home for her. And 'tis not that those visits are pleasant, but Gina always made the most of them and always came out looking her best; with a nice colorful dress, matching heels, her favorite wig, make up and of course a good cloud of perfume. "You could smell it in the hallway when Gina came in," said one of the nurses last week.
And if the kind volunteer at the hospital entrance had the same shoe size, we wouldn't have hesitated to give her Gina's finest shoes. So full of admiration she looked every time Mom walked in.
Cocquette, from beginning to bitter end. Because "she must shine when she stands at Heaven's gate," said Audrey, who was still at the bedside painting her Mom's nails those last days.
Jacqueline, her colleague at Puratos agreed with Gina's gift for always looking peaky. A different outfit every day, with matching jewelry and custom handbag. They found each other not only in the workplace, but also outside of it, and became friends for life, sharing both the clean moments and their deepest soulful feelings.
And about the people I just talked about and about you here present there we do want to say something about... I read recently that resilience is something you have thanks to those around you. I think that's true, because Dad and I don't know where to begin to thank you.
Her oncologist Nathalie van Heddegem first and foremost, for her endless dedication and commitment, but equally her assistant Jolien Van den Haute, and the nurses Sylvie and Christine who were always there with a smile and with a listening ear for our mom and for us.
Your genuine care made all the difference. Her best friends Jacqueline and Myriam who meant a lot to Mom, Claudio Borghese who came over from Italy especially for today - Grazie Mille, Claudio - , Monsieur Bouttefort who traveled from France, Patricia from Spain and Sjors and Melanie from Middelburg, whose Noëlla has a special place in our hearts.
And I may be forgetting people, but all those sitting and standing here ... know that your support and your presence means the world to us today. It only shows that Mom's life as well as her death has left an impression. And that comforts us. As they say so beautifully in English: Thanks a million!

Mom was not ready to die.
That just a month and a half ago she renewed her annual subscription to Pairi Daiza, no words are needed to tell you that hope dies last.
And we, we were not ready to say goodbye. But with a clear mind, you are nothing in this world without a healthy and vital body.
And her body was tired and empty.
All that was left for her was pain.
And all that was left for us was sadness to see her suffer.
Three Fridays ago we experienced at first hand that love also means letting go... releasing your loved one from her suffering and guiding her gently to the other side. She may no longer be there, but at the same time she is everywhere and more than ever in our hearts. And that is dying.
It is not leaving and silently closing the door behind you, but moving, from the outside to the inside, inside our hearts.

Dear Gina, Dear Mom, Dear Grandma, You preceded us, not in how to strive for success, but in how to love.
You showed us that you should not seek happiness too far and that enjoyment is in the little things.
And that is our happiness. You and your gift of being happy, with what life brings you and with us.
Because God, how we have felt loved by you.
Dear family, dear friends, Keep mentioning her name, raise a toast to her, recall an event starring her, laugh, shed a tear, raise a glass.
Let the emptiness fill again, in your hearts.
Because worse than losing what you have is forgetting what was.
In a moment, I invite you to give her a last greeting, to toast her life afterwards, and when you return home, don't forget to bring a memento. Soon, when night falls, she will return home with us and a part of her will also have an eternal place on the Grand Canal in her beloved Venice.