THE BEST INFLUENCES

My mother passed away in 1977 when we were still in Valkenswaard, my father died in 1990 in Eindhoven, my older brother followed in 1993 in Utrecht. It's been so long.
I still miss them.

Dammit, folks, you were the best and brightest family a young man could have. Your intelligence and remarkable insights are still strong, and I really wish I could have dinner with you again, all of us around the table in the sera, in summer, with the doors to the courtyard open, and the cats wandering in and out.


Later in the evening, after William and Winona have gone upstairs, Tobias will be at the table poring over books about chess, replaying the great games. I will go out on the terrace with my book, and read several chapters while smoking my pipe. The smell of Balkan-style tobacco, the fragrance of jasmine tea.
The click, flick, and shuffle of pieces from the room behind me.
Summer evenings, when everything was still young.
Cats. Fleeting rain. Warm lights.
A sense of peace.

You know, folks, I've been wondering what you would think about the Bay Area now. It's been so long since you left.
The place has changed a bit.
Tobias, you probably don't remember it much -- you were still a child when we moved overseas -- but you would probably like living here.
Brother, I really miss you.




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