I love my mother and I love my God.
An old Norwegian saying is "Man predict, God verdict."
My mother has been predicted to be dead within a few hours over and over again for the four last years, not to speak of the four last month.
On the picture taken a week ago, she was knocking on heaven's door again, bedridden with severe pneumonia. Gunnar had to go up in her garden and bring pictures of her flowers down to the hospital, but as you can see, he also managed to call forth a smile and a glimpse in her eye.
Today Serina is in Sauda,visiting her. They went to the dentist, and then my mother went to bed. A few hours later Serina got a phone call from the nursing home. My mother wanted to come to Aaboedalen immediately,if not she'd call a taxi. She wanted Vienna bread and a thorough inspection of the bunads before Mai 17th, "syttende mai." They had a wonderful time together, sipping coffee and discussing English, American and Norwegian literature, before bed time.
The ruby? Pattern on her bed sheet.
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