History of Sorts

My Hero, Wietske—My Mother

Although she didn’t have much formal education, she was the wisest person I have ever known.

She taught me that giving up was never an option.

She understood that sometimes, comfort didn’t come from long speeches but from the simplest gestures—like saying, “Come in for a cup of coffee and a sandwich.”

Today’s generation might look down on her because she put her family above personal ambition. But to her, there was no greater ambition than caring for and cherishing those she loved.

The fact that I still miss her deeply is a testament to the love she instilled in my heart and soul.

She knew that failure wasn’t always a loss, but often just a sign to try a different approach.

The biggest lesson she taught me was that things aren’t always as they seem.

She spoke three languages—Dutch, German, and the language of her parents, Frisian

Finishing this tribute in Frisian.

Myn Held, Wietske—Myn Mem

Hoewol’t se net in soad formele oplieding hân hie, wie se de wiiste persoan dy’t ik ea kend ha.

Se learde my dat opjaan gjin opsje wie.

Se begreep dat treast soms net kaam út lange taspraakjes, mar út de ienfâldichste gebaren—lykas sizzen: “Kom yn foar in bakje kofje en in broadsje.”

De generaasje fan hjoed kin har miskien delachtsje om’t se har famylje boppe persoanlike ambysje sette. Mar foar har wie der gjin gruttere ambysje as it soargjen foar en leafhawwe fan dyjingen dy’t se dierber hie.

It feit dat ik har noch altyd djip mis, is in bewiis fan ‘e leafde dy’t se yn myn hert en siel plante.

Se wist dat mislearring net altyd in ferlies wie, mar faak gewoan in teken om it op in oare manier te besykjen.

De grutste les dy’t se my learde, wie dat dingen net altyd binne sa’t se lykje.

Se spriek trije talen—Nederlânsk, Dútsk, en de taal fan har âlden, it Frysk.