I was struck by a feeling of homesickness this afternoon. Most of the time, I move through my life without feeling it too sharply, but every now and then it comes over me with such force that it stops me in my tracks. Being Finnish-Australian, I try to weave small threads of Finland into my…
Tag: memory
The Fire
Written by Jaana M. H. JokinenTold by my grandmother, Hilja MariaMarch 1913, Joroinen, Finland It was a cold early spring day in Joroinen, in Northern Savonia in the eastern part of Finland, where my family lived. Joroinen is often called the “Paris of Savonia”, because in the 1700s the noblemen there mainly spoke French. Even…
Rustic Wisdom
During our last visit to Finland, I had the privilege of staying in my late mother-in-law’s childhood home, in a small village in the Finnish countryside. These days, that ancestral homestead belongs to one of the cousins, Hannu. The moment I stepped across its threshold, it felt as though the whole earth had paused for…
Road Closed
On rainy summer days, my mum used to send us children up into the attic. As an adult, I understand why. Ours was only a small cottage, and when rain kept us indoors, we children must have made the walls ring with our noise, our energy, our endless movement. Sending us upstairs must have brought…
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…
Music and Dance
As a thoughtful Mother’s Day gift, my daughter took me last night to an evening of candlelight, music, and dance. It was one of those gifts that reaches far beyond the moment itself. My tired soul received it with gratitude and drank it in slowly, as though it had been thirsty for beauty for a…
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…
Apples of Gold 