We often understand the depth of a gift long after the moment when we could have thanked the giver. I’ve heard it said that the soul of a country lives in its music. Yesterday, as I looked through old photographs, lost in thought, while Peter played Finnish folk songs at the piano, I felt how…
Category: Migration
Dad’s Fading Light
My 90-year-old dad is slowly slipping away. Day by day, the flame in his candle grows dimmer, and I find myself watching that light with a grief too deep for words. There is something so heartbreaking about loving someone for your whole life and then having to stand quietly by as they slowly fade before…
The Other Way Around
Here Down Under, everything always feels a little bit the other way around. While the northern hemisphere is welcoming Easter in springtime and Christmas in winter, we Australians are doing our own upside-down version of things — Christmas in summer heat, with sunburn, salads, and trips to the beach. Then Easter arrives with cooler mornings,…
Stay, I Pray You
Last night I went to the theatre to see a live production of Anastasia, and from the moment it began, I felt myself being drawn into it completely. The costumes were exquisite, the music beautiful, the whole production tender and deeply moving. It was one of those rare performances where everything seemed to work together…
The Silent Clock
Where do the years go? They slip through our hands so quietly, and yet they do not disappear. They live on within us, just beneath the surface, waiting for the smallest thing to bring them back. A scent. A sound. A glimpse of light. And suddenly, time folds in on itself. Sometimes it is the…
A Bird with Two Homes
Some journeys are so vast they seem almost impossible, and yet they happen quietly, without fanfare, written into the lives of those who simply keep moving between one world and another. That was what came to mind when I read about the small migratory birds that leave the Arctic coasts and the Nordic tundra each…
The Strength of a Bridge
What once felt like being caught between two worlds can become the ability to bring them closer. Some days, I carry Finland without noticing its weight. Other days, a familiar melody, a few Finnish words or a photograph of birch trees brings it so close that, for a moment, I almost forget how far away…
Grandfather Clock
What lasts across generations often does so because someone chooses to care for it, then places it in the hands of someone new. There is a particular kind of solace that lives in my family’s old grandfather clock. It hangs on the wall downstairs, keeping time with its steady, gentle tick-tock. On days when life…
Family Recipes
We honour what has been passed down to us by making it part of how we live and care for others today. Food has a way of carrying us home. For me, that home begins in a sunlit kitchen where the scent of fresh bread mingled with simmering soup, wrapping itself around everything like a…
Nineteen Fiftysix
A person’s life echoes through the stories of generations. In 1956, in the steady gentle rhythm of Helsinki life, my grandfather began each day in the little home he shared with my grandmother on Näkinkuja. I often find myself picturing those mornings so clearly, as though I can almost step into them. Their home was…
