Grandfather Clock

There is a particular kind of solace that lives in my family’s old grandfather clock. It hangs on my wall downstairs, keeping the rhythm of time with its steady, gentle “tick-tock.” On days when life feels brittle, when I am frazzled or unsettled, I listen to that sound, and it’s like a lullaby, a tender…

Nineteen- Fiftysix

In the gentle rhythm of 1956 Helsinki, my grandfather, a man of meticulous habits and refined taste, commenced his daily journey. From my grandparents’ snug home on Näkinkuja, he embarked on his morning routine, preparing carefully for the day ahead. Then a vibrant 15-year-old, my mum filled their home with her youthful exuberance, and it…