It's quiet at work for my dad at the moment so yesterday he came home for lunch and then took the rest of the afternoon off. While we were having lunch he gave me this look and said: 'maybe, perhaps, if you want to, we could go and play a bit?' Yes, those were his words. Very hesitant. And in this family the words "go and play a bit" can only refer to one thing. Golf. It was a beautiful, sunny autumn day. Around 10 degrees, and the leaves are now turning yellow and red everywhere I turn my head. So we went up to the course and tee'd off on the 9-hole course. It was amazing. I didn't play great. But who cares? I spent two hours with my dad. Outside. In glorious weather. And it was quiet. And peaceful. And fun. And from time to time I just stood there, looking around at the beautiful surroundings and thinking that it's pretty good to be back here. At that moment everything was good with the world. And I forgot about everything cancer related. And unemployment related. And missing-London related. It was just pure Sweden.
It was great.
And then in the evening my dad and I got in the car and drove to my grandmother who had her actual birthday yesterday. We celebrated her on Sunday, but yesterday was the actual day. She's now officially 90. That is so crazy old it's difficult to understand. Pretty amazing.
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