Back in the Saddle Again
LifeOK after the recent hiatus, I'll get back to blogging once more.
Summer this year so far has been weeks of rain. The odd bit of sunshine that does not last more than half an afternoon. But amongst the Swedes I know, and a bit myself, is this edgy panicky feeling that as the window of the short Swedish summer slips by with days of rain, this year we may not get a summer at all. All you guys who live with plenty of sun, and probably a longer summer, get relax with a few weeks of rain, but not here, not now.
I missed midsummer here this year, so that post will have to wait for another time, but that is a real special event. So far this summer, we haven't done many of the summer things we usually do... feels like the season has been cancelled. Boo.
Except... I am cycling a lot more, putting more mileage in. This usually happens to me around the time of the Tour de France, which I find fascinating. I record the highlights, and watch those so I can skip through the adverts. If I could have my time again, and have the body of my choice, it would be of a world class cyclist. My real frame, is broad, with a paunch that varies in size and chunky arms which doesn't lend itself to fast cycling. So I just do it for fun and my health.
That's it, not a cheery post, but I am going to get back into this gradually.... and to be honest... nothing has happened.
That is all.
LostInTheWoods
Personal Loss
LifeIt has been a few weeks since I have posted, and there are two main reasons for this. Firstly I had nothing to say, but then, on Saturday 16th June, my world was shaken up. What I am about to write is possibly cathartic, I am not sure, but please allow me this indulgence.
At 5.30am on that Saturday morning, the phone rang. I don't remember answering the phone, but I found myself talking with my brother. The previous night my father, who was living in a nursing home, was taken to hospital as he had a pain in his left side. This was a concern, but it did not prepare me for what my brother was about to tell me.
My father was dying. During the night he had undergone a procedure to investigate the cause of his pain, and then to try and do something about it. In doing this, his body went into shutdown, and his organs started to fail. I found myself here in Sweden, feeling totally useless, faced with the realisation I would never see my Dad again.
We decide to pack suitcases, and I said to Renee “pack for a funeral”, I was dealing with practicalities in a dream like state. We headed to the airport to see if we could get across the North Sea and back to the UK. It was unlikely Dad would be alive when we got there, but we had to try. Renee drove, I was monitoring the mobile phone. My brother phoned, he asked if we should give consent not to put Dad onto life support if he required it. He was so weak, there really was no point, so I gave my consent. I do not regret this decision.
At the airport, we managed to buy tickets to London via Brussels. We checked in, went through security, and tried to eat something in a café. While we sat there, I thought about who I should call, my brother had already notified the family, so I called one of Dad's life long friends. I got his wife, I told her that Dad had hours to live, she said they would get to the hospital as soon as possible.
Phone rang again, it was my brother, he told me that Dad had passed away half an hour ago. Renee started to cry, and as the news sunk in, so did I. Tough. Dad had most of his family around him, and the comforting words of a church minister at the time. I had to call Dad's friends back, and tell them the sad news.
Dad died, twenty years to the day, after our Mum had died. This is a very strange coincidence, but it wasn't this that brought back the feelings I felt when Mum died. I was now mourning both of my parents.
It took eight hours to travel back to the UK, due to late connections and bad weather. I was asked at the car hire desk “How has your day been?”, and all I could do was to conjure a clichéd response: “I have had better.”, but I did not know what else to say.
So there was a week of organisation, red tape, collecting Dad's belongings, keeping everyone informed, writing a eulogy and finally a funeral. At times it was very tough, but my brother and I made a good team, and everything went smoothly.
So now, back home in Sweden I have time to reflect on what has happened. Next time you wonder whether you should give your Mum or Dad a call, just do it, none of us will be here forever.
That is all.
LostInTheWoods
Taa Dah! (or How did I get here?)
Life
It seems to me, anyone who can bash a keyboard is blogging.... so here we go, this is my attempt at this new fangled phenomenon.
First
thing you have to do, is select a category for this blog post... seeing
as I haven't got a clue what to write about (joining the majority of
the blogosphere then), I have gone for 'life', as this might make me
sound deep.
As it seems most people have been blogging for what seems forever, I am not sure what to put in my first post... but here goes... the title sums up what is coming.
About two years ago, I didn't make a decision, it kind of crept up on me, and imposed itself on me. The decision was to leave the town, and more substantially, the country of my birth. Lots of things came together at once.... boring but fairly well paid job... even crap accomodation was expensive... learning a language with little opportunity to use it... and my girlfriend was kind of missing her home country.
So I broke the news to all my nearest and dearest that I would be leaving behind, and it was quite a moving experience. For some it was a surprise, for some no suprise at all. I choked up telling my father... and I got very touching messages in my leaving card when I left work. Some people asked me "When are you coming back to the UK?". My answer was truthful, yet sounded odd when I said it out loud: "Erm... based on current plans... never. (gulp)".
So a moving firm was booked, bills paid, plane ticket purchased, most of our worldly goods sold at local car boot sales or on eBay, and we were gone... well nearly.
One of the last things we did before going was to tell my "Nanna", who was in her 94th year, that we were leaving the country for good. Her hearing was not so good, but I think she understood we were going to live abroad, and not just go on holiday. Sadly, five days after flying to our new home, she died, and we soon were heading back for the funeral. She was my last grandparent to pass away, and I still miss her and the two granddads that my brother and I grew up knowing.
So fast forward eighteen months to now... looking back over the time since then, many of life's frustrations have gone, replaced with just a few minor ones... and life is good. I have now realised, that I do not miss the place of my birth, just the people I know, and have known there.
So in my next post, I'll tell you where we moved too, and some of the the things I have learnt and discovered since getting here.
Thank you for reading this post.
That is all.
LostInTheWoods
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