We went to the mangroves today, delayed from yesterday.  After I said a few words, Baziel, Lore and Lydia walked to the river and scattered Jo’s ashes on the water, just as he wanted.  Solemn, sacred and sad.

Here’s pretty much what I said:

This is a special place.  Jo and Lydia used to come here a lot, searching for hyena tracks.  Jo asked that his ashes be scattered on the river by Toubacouta … and the river is right over there.

Jo grew up in Oudenaarde.  I imagine him goofing around with his friends just like Lore and Baziel do with theirs.

Jo could have had a local life, centred on Oudenaarde, Ronse and Ghent, but somewhere along the line, he must have realized that he was a man of the world. 

Jo fell in love with Lydia, who grew up in the Congo.  Together they fell in love with Senegal.  When Lore came along, he fell in love with her.  Then he fell in love with Baziel.

One of Jo’s favourite spots was the round bar at Keur Saloum in Toubacouta.  He knew that‘s where people come to order drinks and no doubt he had many fine conversations there.

Jo also welcomed everyone to the outdoor living room at home.  Everyone showed up at his and Lydia’s place.

It‘s usual to think of someone who has died in the past tense.  Jo’s body is dead but I say his soul lives on.  We can be with Jo by just thinking of him.

But if we want a special time with Jo, whether it’s Lydia (Jo’s wife) Lore and Baziel (Jo’s children) Marie-paule (Jo’s mother-in-law) or we friends of Jo …

We can come

right

here