“If I don’t say anything, it’s really the Big Dick Show here at home every now and then”

Tabitha (43) lives with her sons Teun (7) and Willem (3) in Haarlem. Her husband was diagnosed a year ago: an untreatable brain tumor. A month later he passed away. How do you move on as a family after such a sudden loss? In these columns you get an insight into moments they experience. The first year without dad.

“You have a pee and I have a dick.” It is 6 o’clock in the morning and Willem starts a good conversation. “Good morning darling,” I say with my eyes still half closed, thinking: can we please come up with another word for pee. “I’m glad daddy has a dick,” he continues his morning speech. These are those daily moments that Frank is quoted. In the most crazy, small, innocent and above all surprising situations, he is there. Laterally or as the subject of conversation.

Yes, all the men in the house have a penis and as a mother I fall by the wayside. I sometimes find that a bit awkward, because I miss the man of the family during these conversations. When Teun and Willem are in the bath together, the dick jokes fly over and sometimes they try to touch each other for fun. Hilarious, of course, when you’re three and seven. I then start my standard sermon about ‘your body as a temple’ that no one is allowed to touch. But of course they don’t care, so I have to be a bit stricter. “Keep your hands off each other,” I shout. I just really don’t want it. Maybe it’s my prudish nature, but if I don’t say anything then it’s really the Big Dick Show here at home every now and then.

Let’s just say the male/female difference is there early on. The other day Willem said to me: “You are not allowed to be friends with people with penises.” When I said that Daddy had a penis too, he had to think for a moment. “Okay, but next time you’ll have to ask if you can be friends with someone with a penis.” I’m doubled over: is this really said by my youngest?

Fortunately, despite everything, we can really enjoy ourselves together and I am regularly in a dent about my two little guys. Our newest game in the house is ‘The floor is lava’. That blares from the speakers with disco lamp as we venture our way from the kitchen to the play corner without touching the floor. We shuffle, jump and climb over and on obstacles through the living room. Teun helps his brother to push a pillow towards him, for example, when taking big steps. And I participate enthusiastically, perhaps the most fanatically of all. The rules are strict. Do you touch the floor with your toe, go, start again! And this is how we invent new things together, enjoy life as it is now and grow together. And dad also grows with us. He is with us in all the beautiful, sweet, innocent and unexpected moments. Forever.