Advertisement
Published: June 29th 2009
Tattoo?
Signe caught it, Emma wore it.In our eighteen years of marriage, Jeff and I have moved a lot. Emma moved seven times her first seven years. "Good bye" is not a foreign language for us. We are SO excited to go home, but that doesn't make "good bye" any easier. Rather than dwelling on that word, I'm just going to share some of the events surrounding those words.
These past few weeks have been unseasonably gorgeous. On more than one occasion, we've been told that June is typically gray and rainy in weden. Not wanting to sound like the spoiled American, I keep the following comment to myself: "Yeah, well, she owes us. After a rainy August arrival and then what seemed like an eternity of gloom and darkness, we deserve a little sunshine". I kept it to myself, but I've been thinking it. I've also been thinking how grateful I am for the good weather karma. I can see myself coming back to Sweden. (Pauses for gasps of disbelief)
I've got another blog in my head about friendships, so will save that. Just let me say that I have nothing to complain about - I've been blessed on more than one continent.
Since Midsummer, we've made many trips to the sea. Basking in the sunshine and sunning ourselves on the rocks. If you've ever seen a Discovery Channel program about the sea lions, you can picture the the Western coastline of Sweden, except that the "sea lions" here are much better looking. Let's start there. Americans, for all the sex in the media, are modest people. Swedes are far more comfortable with nudity, and I think I am, too. However, I still find myself a little shocked when a woman just takes her shirt off standing on the dock and slips into her bathing suit. I wonder, what is the point of putting on the suit after you've already bared your breasts to the entire sunbathing population? I know you all want pictures to demonstrate the point, but I do a have a hint of modicum. Swedish children, up until about 5 years old, are typically naked in their sunhats. Jorgen is no longer surprised when his buddy shows up on his bike, buck naked...save for the bike helmet. Yow, no wonder banana seats are out of style!
We had a final dinner in Gothenburg with our American friends, The
Marchionne's. Perrin, AC, Lia and Baby have another year in Sweden - but we know we'll reconnect with them in the States. It was good to have someone in the neighborhood who understood the longings for home. Perrin said she would gladly pay the luggage overcharge if we could tuck her in one of our suitcases. I understand.
This past Saturday evening, Gunnel invited us to have a swim, BBQ and final sunset at her home. I finally took a (brief) dip in the cold, cold sea. It was invigorating, but I think I'm more of a Caribbean bather. Sandra, another friend from church, joined us and we had a long evening of great conversation and excellent food. Old Simba, Gunnel's 17 year old Burmese cat, provided some of the entertainment when we heard a distinct "growl" coming from a ways off in the neighborhood..a growl that was escalating into an obvious cat fight. Signe jumped to attention and stated that it was Simba. While Gunnel insisted that Simba didn't stray that far, Jeff spotted the old man in the distance, defending his territory. He and Signe raced down the hill to help the old cat. I turned to
Water Lily
Chilly water lilies! Sandra, Gunnel, Emma, Signe and I. Sandra and said, "Jeff's not such a cat person, I can't believe he's doing that!". She replied, "he's a Gunnel person". That sums it up for the Jeremiason's, we're "Gunnel people". Simba bit Jeff (didn't get through the sweatshirt, though) in thanks. He came out of the battle unscathed, but completely worn out, and spent the rest of the night lounging and drooling on the girl's laps (Simba, not Jeff). The late sunset was one of the best. It's impossible to top God's handiwork when it comes to a great show.
Sunday dawned bright and sunny. We put Emma on a bus to spend her final days in Sweden at the summer house of her friend, Stina. One year ago, I would never have believed that I would put my 14 year old daughter on a bus in a foreign country to a place I've never been. You notice I said "foreign country" rather than "strange country"? I still can't say that I feel like Sweden is home, but it no longer feels strange. For Emma, I think it does feel like home. I can't speak for her, but I do intend to write more about how this experience
has worked for the kids...another blog, another day.
After getting Emma on her way, we were whisked off by boat to the island of Styrsö. Our friends, Ann-Carin and Anders invited us for fika. They are the parents of Jorgen's buddy, Klas and have become our friends here. The boat ride, alone, was amazing. We had seen the coastline from the air, by bike and car...but seeing it from the sea is whole new perspective. We saw Gunnel's vik and the cliffs where our gang jumped, along with "Sigadise" and Gothenburg. There were plenty of waves, fishing boats and sailboats dotting the landscape. Anders gave us a quick tour of the military island on which, during the plague, boats were decontaminated and quarantined. There are no cars allowed on Styrsö, so Jorgen and Signe got a little ride on a transport moped and loved every second of that. We had coffee and goodies in the shade of a little apple tree while the kids raced around the yard. No cars to worry about, it's a place that feels like stepping back in time. We took a walk to the beach, some took a swim, some caught crabs...I took pictures.
It was sweet and sad to see the little boys embrace and say "hej då" as we headed back to the boat. Ann-Carin knelt in front of Jorgen and said to him, "Klas says you are his best friend". A friendship that was built on Legos and the "Hmmm" language. Now Klas has his sights set on a visit to Minnesota, where he's sure he'll score some Pokeman cards.
Ten minutes after hopping off the boat, I was in the back pew at Kullavikkyran for my last service in the Swedish church. My tears started the second the first words were sung...'I can get through this', I kept thinking to myself. As I said before, we are happy to be coming home. However, this church, and the people within, have become my Swedish home. This is where my connections have been made, my loneliness assuaged and some healing has taken place. The carvings at the alter are rustic renditions of Jesus and Mary, carved by an older Swedish woman with polio who "sees Jesus in the trees" and brings Him out through the carvings. It is here that I've heard familiar melodies accompanied by lyrics I know, but a
language I don't. Last evening, Tomas offered a prayer for our safe journey home and one of they hymns during the service was one of my all time favorites, "Amazing Grace", sung in Swedish. As I closed my eyes and listened, once again, to the mixture of familiar and unfamiliar, I thanked God for this place and these people, who by just offering recognition, gave me a home. We followed the service with fika in the courtyard. I distinctly remember my first visit at the church, fika with Roland. I was introduced to a distinguished older gentleman, Anders, who I saw nearly every time I crossed the church threshold thereafter. When Anders came to say goodbye last evening, he led in with the familiar, "Maria, I just met a girl named Maria"... I never get tired of that, and the Swedish accent lent it an even greater charm.
Thanks for Roland for offering his hand when Jeff first took the kids to church and for being the first to welcome us into the church community. For Magdalena, who lured me in with her beautiful voice and who gets my sense of humor, I can't wait until you bring your
Swedish Strawberries
THIS is how strawberries should taste. The BEST Swedish food I've tasted. choir to St. Peter. Tack Annika, for your warm welcome, great style and for introducing my family and holiday traditions in the church newsletter. To Sandra, who set us up with a reliable little, red car, kayaks and a friendship that will cross the sea...we can't wait for your kayak trip in Minnesota. Wivie, thank you for letting me in to your kitchen and for introducing me to so many tasty, Swedish creations and food traditions. Your fish soup will be a regular addition to our family's table, but it is the twinkle in your eye that I treasure the most. I hope that I will get a chance to visit when you are in the states. For the consistently beautiful music, tack, Hanna. Ulla, you've always known what we needed before we could ask. Thank you. Mikeala, who has also been in the midst of goodbyes, it is your heart, kindness, humor and all encompassing love of God that stitched this group together for me.
We ended the Farewell Day with an impromptu dinner with Tomas, Lotte and their family. We've been trying to find a time to get together, but busy lives have made that difficult. They
Tired Old Man
Simba gets some love. have a young family of beautiful children, Tomas is one of our priests and Lotte is a teacher. We had enjoyed a great fish dinner in their home last fall. The difference in how the kids communicated last night was remarkable, it sure is nice to be able to understand! The Philipsons helped us clear out the fridge, Jorgen and Hjälmer built with Legos, Signe and Hilma made magnificent sidewalk chalk creations for the neighborhood to enjoy, Hanna slept in her pram in the cool night air while we adults ate, visited and said good bye. Tomas and Lotte lived in Australia for a year before they had children, so they can relate to living abroad. I feel certain our paths will cross again. It is my sincere hope that I can return the kindess shown us this year.
I have put off the packing and cleaning as long as I can. Tomorrow we leave Kullavik to spend the last evening with our first hosts in Sweden, Mark, Carina and Ellen. July 1st will dawn early, as we must be at Landvetter Airport at 4:30 am. The hardest good bye comes tomorrow.
Advertisement
Tot: 0.321s; Tpl: 0.015s; cc: 12; qc: 71; dbt: 0.055s; 1; m:domysql w:travelblog (10.17.0.13); sld: 1;
; mem: 1.3mb
