My mom was born in Deurne, a town In North Brabant. Today we went to visit Deurne with my mama, her cousin and her aunt. It was really cool to walk around and hear her stories and how she would walk from her house to church and back, and a little further across town to go to third grade.

We first visited the cemetery, attached to the Catholic Church where my great grandparents are buried. My great grandmother was named Adriana Maria. My mother’s real name
is Adriana Maria. My mom’s cousin is called Adriana Maria, and I’m called Adriana Maria. My great grandmother was known as Moeke. My mom is known as Jane, and her cousin is called Franca. I’m the only one without a nickname. Weird.

We stood outside her old house, just on the edge of town and she pointed up to the window of the room where she was born. How cool is that?

The front of the house is now a sewing shop, which we knew about. We still took pictures out front anyway. Literally across the street from the house is a Protestant church.

My mom said she never set foot in there because Catholics just didn’t do that. There was such a division between both Christian denominations. The Protestant kids played together and the Catholic kids played together and really didn’t mix, years ago. I was curious about this fact.

After taking pictures, we walked over to have a drink and a snack at a little restaurant in the town square. The kids saw Zwarte Pieten in the square and ran outside to greet them and to receive pepper noten and sweets and took pictures. They are really becoming Dutch!!

When we were getting ready to leave, Dorine noticed a car out front of my mom’s old house. She, my mom and I hurried over and Dorine asked questions of the man, and told him that my mom was born in that house. They shared conversation and eventually the owners invited us in to have a look around. This was such a cool moment and I felt such happiness for my mom. Her Oma lived in the house and there are pictures of my mom’s family in the kitchen and living area, which is now the back room of the store. I took a picture of my mom again standing in this nice woman’s kitchen.

As we were talking and my mom shared stories of her mom and Oma, the owner said she had something that belonged to her family, that was left behind when they bought the house. It was an old alarm clock that no longer worked, but belonged to my Great Oma. She gave it to my mama. How sweet is that?

I love this clock – time just stands still. We all need one of these!! Namaste.