Saturday, 26 September 2015

Ljusa kvällar om våren.

I was 4 years old when I first felt it. The unease. The longing for something unknown far away..

I sometimes wonder how much I have in common with my ancestors who emigrated in the 1800's.. It seems people don't really change that much on a personal level from century to century and even if the practical things are very different I can very well imagine they might have felt a lot like me. We mustn't forget that our generation is the first in living memory to have a darker future than the generation before.

When I first came to England it was a one way trip I didn't know if I would ever return from. Sometimes when I lie in the grass looking up at the trees I'm amazed at how soft it all looks and I think...that to my son this will be normal. That's a very divided feeling.

From the mid 1860's on there was a mass emigration of Scandinavians out of what was then poor developing countries because of lack of jobs, bad harvests and harsh winters that lead to mass starvation. My own grandmothers father left for America just like many others.. apparently there are about 8 million descendants of Scandinavians in America only and, to put that into perspective, that's about the whole population of one of the countries in Scandinavia. I find this really fascinating not only because I live with the legacy of that but because I made the same choice and it saturates my family and my whole being..

In the end the conclusion is always the same now or a 100 years ago: 

Våra barn ska aldrig känna längtans vånda och ve.
Inga klara syner från mitt förgånga ska doms se
De ska aldrig fråga sig om det knoppas eller blommar
I landet långt bort, och länge sen
Inte höra ljud av skratt i symmningen
Som ekon i från barndomsåren

Ljusa kvällar om våren

I still remember how that cracked road felt under my feet

 And it is more than worth it. 

For as an emigrant you get the best of both worlds. Life really is better. You get to live on and feel free with all the knowledge and experience it gives you while building something completely new.. And those memories of the cracked road under your feet will forever be perfect in your mind. Nothing can ever take my rose-tinted memories away with the flawed reality. 
I get to keep the beauty and forget the darkness.. So that is what I will share if my son ever asks if the place that once was my home is still there. Because in my mind the apples still hang on the trees..just waiting..

Jag är äntligen fri.

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