Stephen Bloom
With this letter I would like to express my condolences with the loss of your father, grandfather, ex-partner and friend.
I am not sure if anyone of you knows who I am, so please allow me to introduce myself. I first met Jeff in one of the first years of this century. I cannot remember if it was 2000 or 2001, but I started my job as an hotel clerk in the Amsterdam Delphi Hotel in the year 2000 and stopped working there in 2017.
Almost every other year, Jeff spent quite a few weeks in the Amsterdam Delphi Hotel, so we got to know each other better every time he returned. We spent a lot of nights talking about all sorts of things and along the way became friends. We started out with having rather intellectual discussions about capitalism and socialism and the difference between the US and the Netherlands, but along the way we talked more often about gentler subjects, like soccer (he was often here at the time of a European or World Championship Football), literature and art (when he came back from France or Italy, he always showed me the art pictures he made). He started to give me little presents when he left after his weeks of holiday (museum card, books he read during his stay, food he did not want to take home) and I used to book and prepay him his train tickets for his trips to Paris, and later for his treatments in Vienna.
In 2014 I invited him over to my house for the first time, where he met my wife and my children (then 5 and 2, my youngest was born in 2015), and since then he came over more often, played chess with my son, took a rest in the shadows in our garden, usually not wanting more than a glass of water or as much as a banana (he preferred to cook and eat his own things).
On Wednesday 31 July 2019 I spent a last night with him in his hotel room. He buys me a couple of beers and he talks very intimately about his youth in Utah and Illinois, his life in Hawaii, his parents and siblings and his loved ones in the US. It is a melancholy evening and we are both aware that this might be the last time that we see each other. He tells me that he reserved himself a nice place overlooking the ocean, about 20 minutes’ drive from Waikiki. We say farewell with a hug. He says to me: “I don’t think you are much of hugger”. He is right, but so isn’t he. Nevertheless we do hug, and yes, it is the last time that we see each other. Since then we kept in touch through email.
His penultimate email in October reads:
‘Edwin, Please send me your address and proper name so I can send you a check. I’ve had to revoke all my bequests and I don’t want to die and leave you with nothing. You’ve been a loyal friend for 20 years and I want you to have a token of our friendship. I don’t feel like eating very often so I won’t be around too much longer. I’m grateful for all the fun we’ve had. Spend it on fun for your family. Big hug, Jeff’
With all his idiosyncrasies, stubbornness, highly intelligent way of thinking but always with cordiality and friendship Jeff was very dear to us. We are going to miss him a lot. I wish you and all the family and friends a lot of strength in these sad times of mourning. Please be assured that even on the other side of the ocean there are a few people who will keep his memory in their hearts for as long as they live.
(I would really appreciate it if you could send me the address of the place where he lies buried. I really hope to visit it one day.)
With kind regards,
Edwin van Mil
Riouwstraat 72
1521 SG Wormerveer
The Netherlands
[email protected]