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…
Tag: Childhood
More Myself
I used to think growing older meant moving further away from the girl I once was, but in many ways it has brought me back to her. Getting older has not made me less myself, but more so. More Finnish. More reflective. More aware of time. More tender toward family. More drawn to beauty, memory,…
Books and Roses
My two grandfathers were not exactly what you would call traditional men, even though both were born in the early 1900s. My father’s father loved cooking, baking, and cleaning. Domestic work came naturally to him. He washed floors, cleaned the house, cooked dinners, and baked with such natural ease that it all seemed simply part…
The Stories We Keep
There is something about the smell of cardamom and cinnamon in the kitchen, and the feel of flour on the bench, that seems to loosen old stories and bring them back to the surface. When I bake with my granddaughter, I notice that I begin telling her the same stories again. Often with the same…
My Treasure Chest
When I look back, it isn’t the big moments that rise first. It’s the small hands. The weight of a child asleep against my chest. The way time softens when you are watching someone you love grow. Life keeps bringing them to me — first as babies, then as children, then, almost without warning, as…
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…
Forever in My Heart
On your day of independence, my beautiful Finland, my heart always returns to you. It returns with pride, but also with tenderness. Because freedom is never just a word when you know what it cost. It is never only celebration when so much was endured for it. Your independence was paid for in courage, in…
The Silent Clock
As we grow older, the years behind us do not disappear; they become part of who we are. 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…
Skip with me, nanna!
Growing older teaches us that giving between generations was never one-way. We were just walking, hand in hand, the way grandmothers and little granddaughters do. The day was mild, the sky wide and blue, and her tiny fingers wrapped around mine with the kind of trust that softens your soul. “Nanna,” she said, looking up…
To my grandson
We do not always have to know what to say or do to comfort someone; sometimes our presence offers more than we realise. You made me a nanna —from the very first moment your dad placed you gently in my arms,just a minute old, soft and new,you stole my heart completely.And you’ve held it ever…
