Evening Sky in Somero

I love the fact that this is the view of the sky in Somero this evening. But even more than that I love the fact that my eleven-year-old son Cameron called me outside to come and look at it.

Hope you are all having a peaceful Easter Saturday.

Endings, Beginnings and Friends

It's been a sad and heavy week, there is no denying that. But with all endings there are also new beginnings, and that is what I am trying to focus on right now. We said a final goodbye to my Dad this morning. I don't have words to describe the way I felt inside. Or now, for that matter. At the same time, the service was a simple and fitting tribute to a man who did not like extravagant and complicated things. The organist played "Jesu Joy of Man's Desiring", one of my Dad's favourite tunes. And we placed daffodils and white and yellow roses on his coffin.

The vicar, Mark East, was lovely. Very genuine and thoughtful and kind. I hope maybe one day I can persuade him and his family to visit us in Somero.  The funeral director, David Preston, was also very supportive and understanding. It made it much easier that I had met him a few months ago, as his wife and my parents were in the same care home. Somehow I felt as though I was among friends.

And now the funeral is behind us, it is time to go back home. This time I am bringing both my parents back with me to Finland. My Dad very much liked the idea that his ashes would come back to be with the family in Finland. And as for my Mum, she is making a new start back in her home town of Lumijoki (near Oulu) where many members of our family still live.

In the midst of all the tears, there was also some happy news for our family last week. After months of living a sort of "in-between" life, we have now finally found a new home. Last Friday it became officially ours. We can move into it as soon as we get back to Somero. That has to be a good thing.

And another good thing is the tremendous amount of friendship and love that has been shown to us over the past few weeks. Something I will never forget.  The messages continue to come, and each one has made a very sad time just a little bit more bearable.

Thank you again to everyone who has been part of this stage of our journey. Let's hope the journey now continues as one which is less sad, more positive and full of good health and happiness for us all.
It's certainly what my Dad would have wanted.

Remember to Say Thank You

If my Dad was here now, I know exactly what he would be saying to me.

Picture taken by my Mum yesterday

"How extraordinary that all those people have remembered a silly old fool like me. How kind of them. I hope you remember to say thank you."

Anyone who knew my dad will tell you that those are the words he would have used. He never learned to accept that he was truly valued by other people, although I think he knew that his family loved him.  But courtesy and gratitude and politeness were fundamental to who he was. Right until the end. That is why everyone always described him as a gentleman, and also probably why, when I am teaching Finns to speak English, I always emphasise how important it is to remember to say please and thank you!

It has been a week of tremendous loss, as anyone who has lost a parent will know. But over the last two days I have also been overwhelmed by the amount of love and kindness which has come through messages we have received from literally all over the world.

I even received a message from Paloma, a reader of this blog in Brazil, someone I have never met, but who took the time  to write anyway. I found that amazingly kind. My Dad would also love the fact that someone had thought about him as far away as Brazil.

If my Dad is out there somewhere watching all of this, he will be overcome with gratitude, and he would absolutely insist on me passing on his thanks to each and every one of you. In Finnish, when someone dies, the expression we use is "otan osaa". Which translated into English means "I take a piece of it" (the grief). I like that expression very much. We all go through challenges and losses in life and sometimes have to face things that we really do not want to face. But our strength as human beings lies in supporting each other through these times and holding the hands of our friends and family when they need it. Taking a piece of the grief. That is certainly the experience I have had over the past few days - and there aren't really words which are sufficient in a situation like this. All I can say, on behalf on both myself and my Dad, is thank you. That is the very least he would have expected of me.  I can only hope that some day I am able to give back all that I have received.