Written by Jaana M. H. JokinenTold by my mother, Mirja AnneliSeptember 1949, Kallio, Helsinki, Finland Slowly but surely, the days were growing colder and darker. School had started again, and autumn had arrived. I have always been a summer person, so even as an eight-year-old, I was not at all pleased by the changing season….
Tag: love
Fabric of Life
When you look at the fabric of your life so far, what colours do you see woven through it? Which shades have been the most dominant? What patterns have emerged in the tapestry of your days? If every experience has been a stitch in the intricate fabric of your life, then how have you been…
Harvest Time
I grew up in Helsinki, Finland, in what felt like a very typical Finnish way, with both a winter home and a summer home. When the end of May arrived, our family of six would leave the city behind and move to our summer cottage, where we stayed until autumn crept in and school began…
This Moment
I rose before the sun this morning and slipped out the door while the world was still half asleep. The birds were already awake, singing their bright hopeful songs into the dawn, sounding far more cheerful than I felt inside. Mum was having surgery today, and I was going to spend the day with dad,…
Afternoon Tea
I recently had my grandson stay for a couple of nights during the school holidays, and as always, the house seemed changed by his presence. It felt fuller somehow — livelier, warmer, threaded through with movement, laughter, questions, and that particular energy young people carry with them so naturally. And then, almost as soon as…
My Son’s Wedding
My grandma taught me the love of proverbs, quotes, and sayings and used them often in her everyday speech. She would come up with all sorts, from funny to the serious, but every one of them was thought provoking. I remember one she had about weddings. She said: “For the couple, weddings are full of…
My Dad, My Hero
I was told that when I came into this world, my father was especially glad that the baby placed into his arms was a little girl. I have often pictured that moment in my mind — my father looking down at me with love already rising in him, holding me carefully in his hands as…
Baking with Grandma
There are certain smells that do far more than drift through a house. They open doors to the past. They loosen memories that have been sitting quietly in the heart for years. For me, the smell of freshly baked cinnamon rolls, rich with butter and cardamom, does exactly that. It carries me straight back to…
Time Travelling
I caught myself daydreaming today, though it felt like much more than that. In my mind, I had travelled back to the happy days of my childhood, back to my grandma’s house, back to everything that felt safe and warm and deeply loved. The Finnish word mummi has never simply meant grandmother to me. In…
Apples of Gold 