Page 106 of AMS.TER.strum

‘For you.’ Otto hands the large envelope with Luuk’s name on it, hardly visible from all the stickers.

Luuk’s smile is sprinkled with curiosity. His eyes go over the two lines on the card, written and signed by my kids in their adorable still-figuring-it-out handwriting. He squints, as if he’s trying to make out what’s written there, before lifting his eyes to take us in.

Luuk

Coming home hasn’t lost its sweet taste nor has the gift of being greeted by Corrie, Ada and Otto. There’s this delightful relief, every time I get out of the taxi, whenever I’m on the road without them. The best part of being away is when the key turns in the lock, and I’m welcomed by their voices, always enthusiastic, as if I’m Sinterklaas.

‘Jij bent beter,’ Ada told me when I mentioned it, her eyes, identical to Corrie’s, looking into mine to make a point, palm against my cheek to anchor her words.

‘Because you come more often and you bring gifts,’ Otto added.

‘And you read us stories and sing us songs,’ his sister said.

‘Like a papa,’ Otto concluded, as if it was the most natural thing in the world.

They ask me to sit on the couch and only then am I allowed to look at the card, which has one guitar right in the center, and they each have taken a side to decorate, same as the envelope. So there’s glitter and princess stickers on the left from Ada, and all things space on the right from Otto. If I wanted to be cheesy, I would say it’s a symbolism of how music can bridge two different worlds. I’m already having a hard time holding it together, so turning my attention to the card gives me a few moments to compose myself. But then I open it.

I squint, because it’s not the Happy Father’s Day wishes I anticipated. I read again slowly, as if what I’m trying to grasp is a long text while it’s only a question. One that I’ve known the answer to all along.

Wil jij onze papa zijn?

And, as if I need a translation, there’s also the English version.

Will you be our papa?

My heart starts inflating like one of the balloons surrounding us. Only this balloon-like heart is filled with joy. There’s also impatience there for all formalities to be over and done with, and me to officially be the dad of these two little people I’ve loved all their lives. I realise I have been staring at the card longer than anticipated when the silence feels loaded with expectancy.

‘I thought you’d never ask.’ I place the card on the coffee table so that I can wrap them in a hug.

It’s not that I wasn’t planning to discuss officially adopting the kids with Corrie, but there’s something else I want to do first, and the plan has gotten interrupted by their surprise. I tighten my hug and whisper to the kids, and there’s a double gasp and giggles afterwards.

Corrie is left clueless. ‘What’s going on?’

Ada reaches into the pocket of my jacket and takes the burgundy velvet box, then she walks towards her mom, while Otto and I are watching, competing for the brightest smile. Corrie’s eyes widen when she’s presented with the box. She opens it slowly, before turning towards me with flooded eyes.

‘That’s…’

‘But now it’s yours. And she would be happy for you to have it.’

‘I’d be honoured to,’ she says, still holding the box.

She knows what the ring means to me. I mentioned it to her during several of those calls where we were each other’s go-to. When times with Dad were particularly difficult, as I felt him drifting further, his lucid moments less and less, and I swear there was a tug in my chest from my heart being ripped out.

Corrie was exhausted, which was usually the case back then, as she was trying to figure out single parenthood. She joked that she might fall asleep during our conversation because my voice was so calming, but she didn’t know it was the other way around. Despite her warning, she did listen as I poured my frustrations out to her, complaining about feeling in Limbo without roots, with one of my parents gone, the other rapidly fading away, having just a golden band to remind me of home.

‘You’ll always have a home with us, Luuk,’ she said, during one of those calls. ‘I hope you know that.’

And I did know, but there was so much more that I wanted said home to include. I wanted to tell her that she was the one, especially when she said, ‘And one day, your mom’s ring will go to the partner you decide to spend your life with.’

Now it has all come together, full circle, and I can finally tell her and ask her to be my forever and spend the rest of our lives showing her.

‘Mama?’ Ada has tilted her head towards Corrie, not understanding why it’s taking so long. ‘Jij moet Ja zeggen.’

‘You have to say yes,’ Otto seconds.

‘No pressure,’ I prompt a still speechless Corrie.

When she only nods at my comment, I get up and walk towards her. I take the box and hold it in my palm, reading the answer in her eyes. And since I’m proposing, I do what I’ve been mocking others about: I drop on one knee.