End of a season

 The Christmas tree basket is weaved by my mother.
December has come to an end.This been has been a special, memorable, painful and joyful month to our little family.I am usually strict that Advent celebration shall not take place until December first. This year I made an exception. My Mom was longing for and looking forwards to Christmas from the end of September. She was ill and had several antibiotics cures this autumn, but as soon as she was out of bed, she started knitting socks for the nurses at the home where she spent her last days.She madded plans for gifts, food and clothing for the big coming feast. At the end of November we decorated her room with a little Christmas tree, candles, red embroidered tablecloths, poinsettias ( Christmas Stars in Norway), youlenisse and angels.She was thrilled. By my birthday the eighth, we returned to decorate the home in Sauda for a great Christmas celebration, the tree, dinner and coffee table were laid and all the old, familiar decorations, the manger, the lights and wreaths, star in the window and advent candles were there, even food supplies was provided. My Mom was all smile and joy as we returned to Haugesund. The next day we got the news, she'd had a new brain stroke and wasn't expected to live much longer. We waked for five days, they were rough for her and us, till she was let in the Pearly Gate, and everything in the room was idle peace. The day of St. Lucia was my Mom's homecoming day. The next day my aunt, my Mom's SIL, was buried and we somehow got the strength to attend the beautiful ceremony. December 17th we always visit and decorate the graves in Haugesund where Gunnar's family are buried. His Dad was born hundred years ago, December 17th 1912. Then back to Sauda in snow and storm, for Mom's quiet funeral December 19th. That was Mom's wish and we had to honor that. 

We returned to Haugesund to celebrate Gunnar's birthday, December 22nd. Serina made it a memorable day. I'm still not sure how we managed to buy Christmas presents, but we made it. Not many cards sent this year, though.
I was determined to present Norwegian Christmas Carols this Advent, one each day, and that somehow kept me going. In Serina's Advent calendar were simple riddles written in French, and one small gift hidden every day.We both had fun doing that. French is kind of a "new" language to Serina.The Little Christmas Eve, the 23rd, we returned to Sauda followed by a new storm. We celebrated Christmas with brother Kel. 

Everything was prepared on before hand, therefore we had a wonderful time surrounded by happy memories and memorabilia from my parents. We even attended three major church concert in Haugesund this Advents, the tickets were reserved in November.
We have experienced that the Lord has led us through dire landscape, opened doors and provided strength we did not posses in ourself.
The minister in the Church of Sauda was of great comfort and blessing, even smile and laughter.
Words from Jesaiah have proven to be true.  45:2 "I will go before you
    and will level the mountains^[a];
I will break down gates of bronze
    and cut through bars of iron.
³ I will give you hidden treasures,
    riches stored in secret places,
so that you may know that I am the Lord,
    the God of Israel, who summons you by name."

Christmas Carols # 15

This carol was written in 1992, but has already become a dear contribution to our treasure of Carols. Sung on TV and in churches, in schools and kndergartens.
That is what I like about about our Christmas songs, they are a living phenomenon, midst among us. As long as the gospel is living, new songs will be written and keep the words and content alive. Christmas celebration may be a tradition, but it's also much more. It's the beating heart of Norway, performed everywhere in November/ December.

Summing up summer

 
Alone

When the mind is barren

When joy is no more

And memories sit inside

By empty, forgotten nests, -

When sorrow by longing grows

And pleads and kneels

When chance of fear meets

Which sinks all down

Into dark depths of weeping and woe

And breaks the last trembling bridge

Then stay with me, then stay with me,

Then pray for me, then pray for me

For faith, faith, faith!

Norwegian author Olav Aukrust 

Translated by Serina Ljung 

Life has been a rough ride this summer, mostly due to illness among everybody in my little universe, my close five finger family. 

When the nights are long and the pillow feels like a stone, too many sad thoughts are building nest in my head. I asked Serina to translate one of my many favorite poems. The picture is from our garden. I've made feet of stone on thrift wood, one for my mother and one for Serina.

RUBY MOMENTS

These pictures were taken on a local beach, granted the people of Haugesund by the Jew Moritz Rabinowitz. He and his family were killed in Holocaust just a few years after this donation. His spirit and kindness is living on. This is my favorite beach where we went to gather strength two days before the funeral of my last aunt.
I often wonder how people take life, health, family for granted.
How they are making plans for the future, as if it is their right to have a future free from sorrow, loss and  illness.Or for that sake a future at all.

I hear them making plans; next year I'll have new teeth, take a sabbatical, celebrate our silver wedding, even plan a pregnancy 12 month ahead and start saving for college for the perfect child to come.

Life has taught me, I just have today, not even always today, but this very moment. 

For nine years we have had our bags packed, and our cellphones on our night stands for emergencies. We have often had to use them.

Even more I have learned to cherish the moment, to seize the gifts God is sending.
A day at the beach is a "dream day", with low shoulders, children's laughter, a book, flowers and red toe nails in the white, soft sand.

"Oh gift of God,
Oh perfect day,
whereon shall no man work, 
But play,
Wheron it is enough to me,
Not to be being,
But to be."
H. W. Longfellow.

Magical Mystery Teacher is hosting Ruby Tuesday 2 together with Gemma Wiseman

My mother against all odds

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.

 For more interesting Ruby Tuesdays

Magical Mystery Teacher is hosting Ruby Tuesday 2 together with Gemma Wiseman