Chapter 27

We returned to the Cafe where I had two questions for Lana. “What do we use as wedding rings? We don’t have time to shop or can afford what you deserve to wear on you finger.” I asked Father Dekker to translate.

“Wat gebruiken we als trouwringen? We hebben geen tijd om te winkelen of kunnen het ons veroorloven wat u verdient om aan uw vinger te dragen.”

“Richard ik hou van je. Het zou me een plezier doen en onze Nederlandse families en ons erfgoed eren als we de trouwringen van mijn overgrootouders zouden dragen.”

“Richard I love you. It would please me and honour our Dutch families and our heritage if we wear the wedding rings that belonged to my great grandparents.”

“I would be humbly honoured to give you grandparents rings new life.”

“Ik zou nederig vereerd zijn om u de ringen van grootouders nieuw leven te geven.”

“My other question is, do you want me to wear my uniform as my wedding suit?”

“Mijn andere vraag is, wil je dat ik mijn uniform draag als mijn trouwpak?”

“Ik weet dat we elkaar hebben ontmoet en verliefd zijn geworden door de oorlog. Ik bedoel geen minachting voor jou, je uniform of Canada, maar elke keer als ik naar onze trouwfoto’s kijk, word ik aan de oorlog herinnerd.”

“I know that we met and fell in love because of the war. I mean no disrespect to you, your uniform, or Canada, but every time I look at our wedding pictures, I’ll be reminded of the war.”

“I agree, but where can I find a man’s suit to wear?”

“Ik ben het ermee eens, maar waar kan ik een mannenpak vinden om te dragen?”

“There is a second hand store two blocks west. They sell clothing and other items donated, no longer needed,” Father Dekker informed me.

We walked the short distance, entering the musty-smelling store. The store was divided into sections of men, women, and children clothes, plus other items. We found the men’s suit area and began to sort through the assortment.

“Alsjeblieft, geen zwart, begrafenissen.”

“Please, no black, funerals.” I nodded my agreement.

“No brown, Army,” I said.

“Geen bruin, leger,” Lana smiled, placing the brown suit back. I showed her the tag inside a jacket and waist size, forty-two and thirty-six inches.

Lana picked out a suit and held it against my chest. It was beige brown with light coloured lines dividing the tweed material into checks.

I noticed it was a three-piece with a matching vest. “Ik vind deze leuk. Zie er knap uit.”

“I like this one. Look handsome on you,” she said.

I took the jacket off the hanger, noting it was a size forty-two. I slipped it on and looked at Lana. She felt the material, patting my arms and shoulders. She noticed a change room and handing it to me, wanted me to try it all on.