Frisia: 1633

Inspired by the love story of the famous painter Rembrandt van Rijn and his wife Saskia van Uylenburgh

           I started paving the aisle, entering the threshold of a new stage in my life. In the small town of Northern Frisia, a place of trees and tall grass, flower scents and blooming gardens. In the middle of a mini forest, there we stared in each other’s eyes, telling the deepest and purest secret of romance. The serene and angelic ambiance, and the synchronization of birds singing and the dancing of the trees; it feels so magical.

           At the end of the aisle, there stands the love of my life. Joyous and ecstatic, my tears are falling without a doubt. Before I even reached Ronne, his eyes are as expressive as mine. I laughed at the sight of it. As I reached his hand and walked to the center of the aisle, my heart is full and warm. This is my most awaited day, when life is precious and the fact that someone wants to share the rest of his life with you is beyond magical.

           We are both standing on the hollow space right at the center. He brings out a ring, simple and elegant, and inserts it on my ring finger. Watching it glimmer, I cannot help but cry in joy. He stated his vows and promised to be with me life and death. I pulled out a ring and inserted it on his ring finger, stating my vows to love him come what may. In front of the trees and flowers, with the birds and bees as our witness, our love is sealed and sealed forever.

           After the ceremony, we went back to our home; a few steps away from the mini forest. Days have passed, and I am now baring my first child. Then, second child, third child and fourth child. All of them have gone to dreamland. Ronne and I lived in despair, until our fifth child came. Ultimately, our hearts are relieved and our sorrows are replaced with joy. I named him Enno.

A year after Enno’s birth, I find myself in my burial. Inside the pitch-black casket, there I live for the rest of my days. Days later, I hear Ronne running towards me. He was gasping for air and I started feeling drips of water. Hearing him cry makes my heart break. I start feeling miserable, too.

         To soothe the despair in his heart, I turned my tears into flowers as a token of my undying love. However, as years passed, my beloved husband barely visits me. Then I hear Enno telling me stories of his father’s troubles.

 One morning, I hear a noise. I can sense many people are above me. I hear my husband’s voice in a sad tone agreeing to the people. From that moment, my heart split into two and the flowers I cultivated starts dying, too. It dies with me for the second time, as it dies along with my heart.