I am stepping away from my usual themes today to honor my husband, whom I recently lost–in flesh, but not in spirit.

Willem Zeger Offerman (Will), age 72, passed away from COPD-related pneumonia in Salem, Virginia, on April 29, 2021.

“That’s like looking a cow in the rear end!” is what he would probably think of an obituary. One of Will’s many colorful sayings, it reminds us of his wit and joie de vivre. He brought the party with him and everyone loved the tall, handsome Dutchman with the resonant voice.

He enjoyed music: the blues, chansons of Edith Piaf and Jacques Brel, and arias—in particular, the Nessun Dorma from Turandot. Politics and history engrossed him. There wasn’t much he couldn’t tell you about the geopolitics of Europe in the last three centuries. On the other side of the coin, he was a self-avowed techie and enjoyed the challenge and satisfaction of making our house “smart.”

Will began his international business career with the Tennant Company in its European headquarters in Uden, the Netherlands. The company moved him and his family to the United States in 1975, where he started as a salesman in Detroit. He returned to Holland in 1976 and took on the role of Area Manager, Southern Europe. Other transfers included a five-year tour in South Africa, serving as General Manager for the Great Karroo Region, and to Canada, in the capacity of District Manager, Western Canada.

He spent most of his long Tennant career in Minneapolis at the international headquarters. There, he rose from Area Manager, Middle East, to Export Sales Manager, and ultimately, to Director, International Sales. During that time, he traveled to more than seventy-three countries to search out new business opportunities and develop distributors for the company’s industrial and commercial equipment. Colleagues—many of whom are still in frequent contact—as well as competitors, admired and appreciated his expertise and drive.

A particularly endearing characteristic was his devotion to family and friends. His daughters, whom he was fond of calling ‘the three sisters,’ were a constant source of pride. He loved them dearly and spoke often of their many achievements. It gave him great comfort to know they have remained close, both literally and figuratively, and are able to look out for each other.

As a husband he was considerate, caring, protective, and loving. We committed ourselves to each other in July of 2012. We married at the courthouse in Christiansburg, Virginia, on December 12 of that year—our auspicious date of 12/12/12—after a twenty-five-year friendship. The special ring tones we had for each other describe how we felt. His for me was Ed Sheeran’s, “I Found a Love.” Mine for him was Etta James’, “At Last.”

In our years together we enjoyed traveling—exploring Europe and areas surrounding our home in the Blue Ridge Mountains of Virginia. We both took delight in the antics of our seventeen-year old Siberian cats, Vanya and Vasya, and Standard Poodle, Rhett, now almost two.

Willem’s father, Arie Offerman; mother, Geertje Ariaantje Offerman-de Jong; and sister, Marianne IJzerman-Offerman preceded him in death. He is survived by me, Chandlee Offerman, his wife; daughters and sons-in-law, Emma and Steven Mueller, Zoe and Kurt Inderrieden, and Louisa and Daniel Enz; stepdaughters and sons-in-law, Heather Murphy Capps and Dudley Capps and Tara Murphy and Chris Keniley; and grandchildren, Olivia Mueller; Shea and Cyril Inderrieden; Isabelle, Nicholas, and Edward Enz; and Nicholas and Isabella Capps.

He left us too soon but will always live in our hearts.

I include here a poem Willem sent to his brother-in-law on the death of his sister, Marianne. This is how he would like to be remembered as well:

Do Not Stand at My Grave and Weep

by Mary Elizabeth Clark Frye

Do not stand at my grave and weep

I am not there; I do not sleep.

I am a thousand winds that blow,

I am the diamond glints on snow,

I am the sun on ripened grain,

I am the gentle autumn rain.

When you awaken in the morning’s hush

I am the swift uplifting rush

Of quiet birds in circled flight. 

I am the soft stars that shine at night. 

Do not stand at my grave and cry, 

I am not there; I did not die.