“They’re not treating me fairly!”, said a sobbing Lina, hardly able to make herself clear through her tears.
She asked me to explain the whole situation, listened carefully, and eventually told me to go and wash my face in cold water because it would feel good to my bright, red, tear-streaked face. She knew me so well. Even though I knew deep inside of me it might have been me that had not been treating my siblings fairly, it always felt she was on “my side” of the whole story, and that’s what I needed right then.
Between my private violin lesson and my orchestra practice, I always went to their big apartment, located right in the middle of downtown. We had fika, talked and talked, and they listened and listened. During the summer months, when they lived in their summer cottage, out in the country side, which I truly wasn’t a big fan of (most likely because the rugs weren’t as cozy as in their downtown apartment, and the toys weren’t as many), I spent a lot of time there anyway. We played ice cream store through the kitchen window, where I always ordered an ice cream boat. We went to the lakes and swam.
One time, when my youngest aunt lived in another city, and they were going to visit her, I joined them, and we surprised her. I was standing behind the door when they rang the doorbell, and jumped out from my hidden place, and we all screamed “Surprise!” That was the same trip where I got really upset when we were walking downtown, until they bought me “Tårtspelet” – a board game. I was so excited then that I forgot I was upset. We also played endless of rounds of card games at their dining table, while eating chocolate and drinking apple cider. If I was lucky, and had been nice, while walking downtown, helping out, I could get beautiful angel book marks. The beauty was that I never expected anything, it was just something extra every now and then. What truly was the most important, was the endless amount of hugs and love I always felt from them.
Once I got a little bit older, I started cleaning and helping them out every week, ran to the store for them, or picked up pastries from the bakery just down the stairs, in the same block. It was a time I felt I could help them and be there for them when they needed it. When I needed help with school work, I could always ask him, and then I was stuck forever, since he literally knew e v e r y t h i n g, and therefore told me e v e r y t h i n g. Sometimes he could move over to start talking about the native Swedes and what life was like up north in Sweden. We were a great team.
The years passed, and I moved to other cities, and even countries, and I couldn’t see them as often as I wanted. However, I tried to always keep them updated, by sending post cards, and/or letters, and whenever I was in town for a visit, I always paid them a visit as well.
Tears are streaming down my face right now.
Tears of happiness that I got to have them in my life. Tears of joy of all the memories I have.
But also tears of sorrow. I miss mormor and morfar so bad.
Today, a year ago, was the last time I saw my mormor (grandma), talked with her, and hugged her. We looked at old photo albums, talked about the past, and laughed in the present moment. And when it was time for me to leave, we both knew. We knew it was the last time we would see each other in this life. My morfar passed away three years before her, and I knew they were finally gonna be together again soon. It was the right thing. It was time. However, it’s so easy to be selfish in moments like this, because I miss you so much, mormor and morfar..
LOVE YOU FOREVER AND EVER