Ode to Sophia Elzinga-van Delden | A fighter through and through

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As a child growing up , I would notice  the little things about my Mother which stood out. Such as her ability to be fierce, angry and defensive at the drop of a hat, her ability to pretend that everything was fine when , in fact, things were very wrong. This well practiced act of normality became her front in public.

To a child this was confusing. 

It became more developed after we emigrated to Aotearoa/ New  Zealand in 1958. She seemed on guard and  hostile until she became familiar with a place or person. A knock on our door would scare her to death and she was hesitant to open it until she knew who was behind it. She anticipated disaster when we saw only opportunity.  If we brought another child home after school, it was seen as an intrusion by my Mother and she would eye them with suspicion whilst feigning acceptance. Loud noises would startle her, anything unexpected would throw her off balance. She had trouble sleeping and would often be found up doing the housework in the middle of the night.

She would rarely tell you the truth about how she was feeling and it was only as we grew older that  we learnt , through bits and pieces, some of the story about her time in the Dutch Resistance as a teenager. and about her tragic love affair with Hans [ Johan Godefridus] Schippers , which ended with his  execution and violent death on 8 March 1945 at the hands of the Nazis, at the age of 22 years.

For us this became her life story and we would speculate that we may never have existed if he had lived as she would most likely have not married my father... somewhat of an existential threat!

As I grew into adulthood and started a career working with abused women and children, I noticed the similarities in their behaviour with that of my Mother .

I became a Trauma Counsellor as a direct result of observing and living with my Mother and for this I will be forever grateful and in her debt.

Becoming familiar with the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder in my clients, I recognized that she was suffering the same effects throughout her lifetime ...the exaggerated startle response reactions, the nightmares and inability to sleep, the need to pretend and not have her cover blown, her need to defend her family,  her ability to lie and make up another reality, her quickness to anger at a level beyond what the circumstances warranted, her inability to trust, her lack of self-esteem and her self-doubt, her constant scanning of her environment, her  restlessness and mood swings,  her avoidance techniques etc. 

 It all made total sense when put in the context of P.T.S.D., which went undiagnosed at that time in the rush to just  "get on with life " but which she undoubtedly suffered from as a consequence of her time as a Resistance Courier , coupled with the grief and shock of the murder of the love of her life.

Looking back with that in mind , I have total respect as to how my mother's war experiences coloured her behaviour for the rest of her 

adult life and tainted her ability to enjoy life. She often spoke of her constant need to look over her shoulder, her sense of guilt for surviving when others hadn't, for playing a part in the death of others despite them being "the enemy" , and I know that she carried these feelings until her death on 21st May 2010, suffering from dementia and a stroke.

I have nothing but admiration for the way she forged a new life for herself and for us in a foreign country, far removed from the support of her family  and friends, speaking an unfamiliar  language whilst fighting her internal demons which were the after effects from the war that so many of her fellow countrywomen ( and men)would have suffered from in that era. 

She was a fighter through and through and this is the legacy she left our generation and the ones that are following on behind us. I acknowledge and have lived the reality that  the effects of war are longlasting and intergenerational . 

They do not end when Peace is declared.

Her children and grandchildren have all visited the places in Amsterdam that we know of where my Mother would have spent the war years in trepidation and  in fear for her life , as well as for that of her innocent family. 

She never sought recognition of her war efforts but – we , as her  proud offspring, are ensuring that her bravery and  sense of justice for humankind survives and lives on .

My Mother helped to liberate Amsterdam by standing up for humanity and for decency during a time of darkness, deep despair and hopelessness.

I salute her courage and commitment and her suffering.

Lang zal ze leven!!!   (Her favourite song, alongside "Non, Je Ne Regrette Rien")             

Marion van Delden  (daughter).         

It became more developed after we emigrated to Aotearoa, New  Zealand in 1958. She seemed always on guard and hostile, until she became familiar with a place or person. A knock on our door would scare her to death and she was hesitant to open it until she knew who was behind it. She anticipated disaster when we saw only opportunity.  If we brought another child home after school, she saw it as an intrusion and she would eye them with suspicion whilst feigning acceptance. Loud noises would startle her, anything unexpected would throw her off balance. 

She had trouble sleeping and would often be found up doing the housework in the middle of the night. She would rarely tell you the truth about how she was feeling and it was only as we grew older that we learnt, through bits and pieces, some of the story about her time in the Dutch resistance as a teenager and about her tragic love affair with Hans [Johan Godefridus] Schippers, which ended with his execution and violent death on 8 March 1945 at the hands of the nazis, at the age of 22.

For us this became her life story and we would speculate that we may never have existed; if he had lived as she, she would most likely have not married my father... Somewhat of an existential threat!

As I grew into adulthood and started a career working with abused women and children, I noticed the similarities in their behaviour with that of my mother. I became trauma counsellor as a direct result of observing and living with my mother and for this I will be forever grateful. Becoming familiar with the symptoms of Post Traumatic Stress Disorder (PTSD) in my clients, I recognized that she was suffering the same effects throughout her lifetime – the exaggerated startle response reactions, the nightmares and inability to sleep, the need to pretend and not have her cover blown, her need to defend her family, her ability to lie and make up another reality, her quickness to anger at a level beyond what the circumstances warranted, her inability to trust, her lack of self-esteem and her self-doubt, her constant scanning of her environment, her restlessness and mood swings, her avoidance techniques, etc. 

It all made total sense when put in the context of PTSD, which went undiagnosed at that time in the rush to just 'get on with life " but which she undoubtedly suffered from as a consequence of her time as a resistance courier, coupled with the grief and shock of the murder of the love of her life.

Looking back with that in mind, I have total respect as to how my mother's war experiences coloured her behaviour for the rest of her adult life and how it tainted her ability to enjoy life. She often spoke of her constant need to look over her shoulder, her sense of guilt for surviving when others hadn't, for playing a part in the death of others, despite them being 'the enemy', and I know that she carried these feelings until her death on 21st May 2010, suffering from dementia and a stroke.

I have nothing but admiration for the way she forged a new life for herself and for us in a foreign country, far removed from the support of her family and friends, speaking an unfamiliar language, whilst fighting her internal demons which were the after effects from the war that so many of her fellow countrywomen (and -men) have suffered from that era. She was a fighter through and through and this is the legacy she left our generation and the ones that are following on behind us. I acknowledge and have lived the reality that the effects of war are longlasting and intergenerational. They do not end when peace is declared.

Her children and grandchildren have all visited the places in Amsterdam that we know of, where my mother would have spent the war years in trepidation and  fear for her life, as well as for that of her innocent family. She never sought recognition of her war efforts but we, as her proud offspring, are ensuring that her bravery and sense of justice for humankind survives and lives on.

My mother helped to liberate Amsterdam by standing up for humanity and for decency during a time of darkness, deep despair and hopelessness. I salute her courage and commitment and her suffering.

Lang zal ze leven! - It was her favourite song, alongside Non, je ne regrette rien.