Things that matter

Late night messaging with a dear friend.
A loving aunt calling asking to play golf.
Neighbours checking up on me.

Things that make me feel less alone.
It's good to be reminded that while I sometimes feel very lonely in all of this. I know I'm not. I know you're all out there.

So I am now off to spend four-five hours with the best of the best. With two people who love me unconditionally. Two people who, I know, would do anything for me. Two people who have known me my whole life. Two people who vowed to take care of me if something were to happen to my own parents. They truly have stepped up.

Sunshine. Golf. Aunt. Uncle. Aka godparents. It's turning out to be a good Saturday.

The benefits of home

Sometimes I panic when I realise that I'm unemployed and living at home with my parents. It's not really the norm. But then, there are some definite advantages to being here. Other than the most important and obvious one that is.

1. There's a full fridge and freezer and pantry with lots of food of all kinds. And goodies. And baking goods. And it comes with a fancy kitchen which makes cooking and baking more fun than it ever was while I lived in the UK.
2. A month ago or so my parents bought a new car. That means that the old car got more or less handed to me. Definitely a bonus.
3. Access to a lovely garden which is mine for the taking if I ever feel the need to get out and do some gardening (who knew raking leaves could be so satisfying!).
4. I get to sleep and live in my room. This, where I'm sitting right now, has been my room since I was born. It has been my hideaway my whole life. It holds memories and comfort. This is where I feel the most at home. Getting to sleep in this room is definitely one of the best things of living here.
5. Comfy, nice furniture everywhere in the house which suits all possible moods. 

And the most important and obvious one you ask? Getting to have traditional weekend breakfasts at the dining table with my parents, the way we have done it all my life. And spending an entire, rainy weekend in front of the tv watching the European golf tour with my dad. Having afternoon fika with my mum. In other words. Getting the chance to spend some serious quality time with my parents.
 

Memories

I’ve taken on a project of going through all of our home made videos. When I was a kid my parents filmed a lot, not only holildays and birthday’s, but everyday stuff as well. A few years ago my dad managed to get all of it into a computer and now it is all in my computer. I’m going through them all and cutting them down to more manageable lengths and sorting them by year and event. It’s a lot of fun to sit and watch. I’ve so far gotten up to the end of 1989. Which means my brother is a funny 4 year old and I am a very blonde 2 year old. Sometimes it’s hilarious.

One bit which I got stuck watching over and over again is when we’re at my paternal grandparents house and playing in the garden. My grandfather was an amazing man, truly one of a kind. He was the epitome of what a grandfather should be. Patient. Kind. Playful. Funny. Trustworthy. Truly amazing. He passed away in April 2005 and I still miss him a lot. It’s a lot of fun to watch the old clips with him in them. He was very special to me and we were very close. He taught me so much. I love this photo of us. Absolutely love it. Probably one of the best photos I have of him and of me. Just look how cool we are

A lovely Tuesday

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.

The good and the not so good

I don't like this period. The days running up to the next round of chemotherapy. She's so tired. And you can tell she's in pain. Although she tries to hide it. The days during chemotherapy and directly afterwards are much better. Strange how it works, isn't it? Before all of this I would have assumed that during chemo is when a person would be feeling worst. I know it's individual. But still. It surprised me.

Sixth round coming up. The final one for now. One month left until we know the results. That means one more month for me to live in my bubble. One more month of denial . And then it will be thrown in our faces.

Today we celebrated my paternal grandmother. She turns 90 on Tuesday. Ninety years old. That's really old. I want to sit at my mum's 90th birthday laughing and celebrating just like we did today. I'm hoping for a miracle. Come on science. I know you take huge steps in the right direction every day. You can do it.

Happy birthday farmor (as she's known to me. Means 'fathers mother'), you are one hell of a person. Thank you for never getting tired of playing the same board games with me over and over and over again when I was a kid. I will always love you for that.

War

There's a new darkness in the world.
It rolled in over the hills out of nowhere.
And now it's pressing down on us.
Suffocating.
Choking.
Deafening.
It's a different kind of darkness.
It's malicious.
Unpredictable.
Completely out of our control.
And it's terrifying.
We will stand united.
And face it head on.
Together.
This evil that has entered our world.
We will fight it.
It is us against it.
And we have everyone on our side.

I really hope that is enough.
It has to be enough.
Because the alternative is too scary, too horrible, and too unthinkable.
It's not an option.
Because then the world would end.

How lovely it was

I learned a couple of things this past week,

like how England never feels further away than when you're in Sweden.

And how wonderful it is to sit around a dining table having a conversation with your grandmother, after not knowing if you'd ever see her again.

And how amazing my parents are for always, always, always being there. And how grateful I am that they accepted my tattoo, no questions asked.

Every time I go home, the feeling of wanting to leave shrinks a bit more.

I love you

I have this memory,

from when I was around 9-10 years old.

We lived in Norway back then,

away from family.

In a new culture, trying to find our way on our first living abroad experience

(there's been plenty after that, moving is second nature to me by now).

One day my mum came and told me that the circus was coming to town,

and that if I wanted to we could go.

If I wanted to? What kind of question was that?

Of course I wanted to!

And then she said the magic words,

the words that has made this event stick in my head like few other memories have.

It was just going to be me and dad.

My brother was going to stay at home,

because mum thought it'd be good for us to have some time alone,

just me and dad.

I loved it.

I was in heaven.

Just me and dad.

No homework to be done.

No brother calling for attention.

It was a great day.

We bought popcorn,

and laughed at the clowns.

It was such a perfect day.

Now, living in a different country than my parents, I often think back to those days.

When it was just me and them, and my brother.

And I remember days like that,

with just me and my dad.

And it makes me want to buy the first plane ticket home.

Just to have one more day like that,

just me and my dad.

Almost over

My last week at work here in Uganda.
And what am I doing?
Sitting at home.
It's cold,
or rather, I'm cold.
And I think my body has had enough of bumpy car rides and hours and hours by a desk cause my neck and back really hurt. Probably the walk home yesterday with a super heavy backpack that did the final push.
Atleast work went better than hoped yesterday and it shouldn't be too tricky to get the report finished by Friday even with today not doing anything.

I can count the number of days on one hand now.
4 days,
and then they are here.
Family, don't you just love it?

A deserted island

I close my eyes and see your faces.
My wonderful parents,
and amazing brother.
My cousins whom are more like brothers.
My dear math geek friend, whom I haven't seen for several years.
You, who changed me for ever and whom I will never see again.
My best friend struggling through life with me.
My oldest friend, always and forever the girl next door.
You, whom I never talk to, or see anymore, but whom followed me through my moves and was always there.
New faces enter as well.
People I consider family.
You, whom I shared endless conversations with that kept me going when things were at its worst.
And you, whom I will never forget, but probably never see again.
My dear German, who knows everything there is to know.
My hero, whom left me years ago but I still see in my dreams.

I wish I could place you all on a deserted island, together, forever.
I'm sick of missing the people I love.

Family

My wonderful brother, best friend, you will always be there when I need you.
I've called you at 4am, and you pick up the phone.
I've made you laugh at my jokes, and listen to my problems.

My dear mum, never have you failed me.
I've left you behind so many times, but your arms are always open when I return.
I tell you everything, almost, and you never get sick of hearing my voice.

My amazing dad, you always make me laugh.
No one can pick me up like you can, all I need is to hear your voice.
I've forced you to be patient over and over again, and you haven't failed yet.

Not a day passes when I don't think about you.
Not a day passes without me wishing I could have both worlds right here.
I've made a choice.
But that doesn't mean I don't miss you.
Every day.
Every hour.
Every minute.