May began so great with hikes and especially a lot of outdoors with my older daughter Florens. At the end of May we were back in Bosnia. For the planned visit this summer but also for the burial of my father who passed away in late May after a long illness. He fell asleep and left this realm in his home, under the same roof with the woman he had shared his life with. She had taken care of him during his illness like a faithful and loving angel. We all met regularly and saw each other often, as a family. The last scene and the last goodbye etched in the memory is of my daughters hugging him and how they looked at each other, with a lingering eye contact in a way only old people and small children can pull off.
My farewell with him took place on the same morning in his home. When the mortuary transport drove off, I couldn’t help to film. This is the final scene for all of us. In the end a black van drives your body away, slowly, getting smaller until it turns a right or left.
Here we are, because our ancestors survived, whatever we may think or care about them. They made someone who made us. We stand here on the earth in this Godly creation. As the relay runner, to give our run in the race that never ends. We are not par excellence from the get go. Maybe when we finally develop something, create something and leave something behind. We will feel and realize that our run with that stick got us somewhere. That it made the runner ahead feel they have something special to run for. Summer has just begun and life will always try to justify itself. No better time than doing that now.
Florens went along with me. I really wanted to give her memories and share some quality time. In a family you want to have time all together, some quality time with each member and it’s not always easy to pull off.
So when an opportunity is given, don’t miss out. This time I wanted to honor life. As a father, I want to have her remember stuff we did, to show her around and connect with her.
It was a gift of quality time together. It seems we stayed longer than we did, but that’s due to the eventful trip. I learned a lot, I really did. I want my children to feel they have a dad who’s ready for action and wants to spend time with them. Many things don’t go as planned and much needs to be taken care of on the spot. But by doing so I get better, and my children realize they can be sure we solve whatever that needs to solved.
This year changes everything, speaking about my own reality. A year ago I decided to go along with my bigger plans in life. Now some steps into it, there is no fear or turning back. Nothing stands between us and what we feel is the right way of shaping our life.
Utan slut, i var ó envar. En dikt om plats
En dikt om döden är en dikt om livet.
Hyllning till livet är en bikt till döden.
När sinnets närvaro sig slukat i svart, då ska döden den taga till helt ny plats.
Då platsen ej finns någonstans bevarad, blir det ord och minnen som till platsen bringer.
Ò för den levande som en gång var, finns det nu plats i var ó envar.
Without end, in each and every. A poem about a place.
A poem about death is a poem about life.
Tribute to life is a confession to death.
When mind’s presence is veiled in black, death takes it to a whole new place.
A place not preserved anywhere, thus words and memories reveals the place.
For the living who once was, there is now room in each and everyone.