Bröllopsmässan...

I går var det så dags för alla blivande brudars stora högtid: Bröllopsmässan! Det var Karin som tyckte att det var en bra idé från början och jag tänkte att det kunde vara lite kul, jag har ju läst några nummer av Allt om Bröllop och de har massa bra tips och idéer. Jag förköpte våra biljetter för att de blev billigare och skickade sedan en FB-länk till Karin så hon kunde göra likadant.
Nog om det, vi skulle ses vid mässan 13:00 och den var på Nacka Strand, så det var inte så långt för vår del. Lite trassel med att hitta parkering, men det gick bra tillslut. Hade pratat med Karin, som först inte hade någon plånbok med sig och inte kom in, sedan åkte Niclas för att ge den till henne och jag tog så för givet att hon var där inne. Så vi gick in och ställde oss i kö till DEN SÄMSTA GARDEROBEN i världen! Det tog säkert 20 minuter för dem att hänga in jackor åt 10 personer... Och det tog de betalt för...
Sedan skulle vi lokalisera Karin och hon sa att hon minsann stod utanför entrén och vi måste ha gått förbi henne -- trots att det var tekniskt omöjligt att missa någon där. Så frågade hon om vi såg den vita limousinen och det gjorde vi ju -- den stod ju rakt framför oss och då började det bli riktigt konstigt! Så frågade hur de hade åkt efter Nacka Strands-tunneln och då reagerade Karin:
-Nacka Strands tunneln? Jag är ju på Grand Hotel inne i stan!
Då visar det sig att det är TVÅ bröllopsmässor samma helg, på två olika ställen och det var den i stan som jag skickat länk till Karin om -- medan jag själv var helt övertygad om att det var den i Nacka Strand som gällde! =D Snacka om vimsigt! Som tur var så kom Niclas lägligt och var underbar och skjutsade ut Karin till oss.

Så gick vi runt där inne, var med i massa tävlingar, tog goodiebags och pratade massor i någon timme -- sedan bestämde vi oss för att dra till Nacka Forum och sätta oss och planera. Trodde vi ja... Garderobspersonalen kunde inte hitta min jacka... Vi fick vänta i närmare två timmar, fick gå in och leta själva massa gånger och grejen var att både jag & Anders såg när de hängde in den att de inte hängde den på rätt nummer och att det rådde allmänt kaos därinne. När vi började pressa dem lite så blev en blond 16-something så snorkig och otrevlig att jag var på väg in över bänken för att hjälpa henne med lite uppfostran... Det hade varit snyggt. De hjälpte inte till alls, bara sa att deras ansvarige chef inte hade tid att komma och fortsatte springa runt. Då fick jag & Karin tag i någon slags högsta chef, eftersom problemet var att jag hade bilnyckeln i jackan och vi därmed inte kom någonstans utan den... Vi fick gå in och leta en gång till, nu var det färre jackor, men fortfarande ingenting. Vi fick två biljetter till champagnebaren som kompensation, så Karin & Anders fick lite champagne och när mässan snart skulle stänga: då kom den killen som faktiskt varit underbart trevlig och hjälpsam med jackan!
Summa: inte jätteimponerad i det stora hela...

Sedan åkte vi och satte oss på ett café och pratade och planerade och jag måste bara säga: jag kunde inte ha valt en bättre maid-of-honor! Karin får mig att känna mig så lugn, hon tar tag i saker och hon är den första som säger: "Ja, men det ska inte du/ni behöva bry er om" och det är skönt, för jag känner mig helt överväldigad, ganska skraj och ibland lite ensam i allt det här. Men från och med nu så kör vi järnet med avstämning en gång i veckan, jag ska ha telefonkonferens med världens bästa Sara i kväll och det ska bli kul! Mina fina, fina, älskade vänner! Och älskade Anders, han gnäller aldrig, han bara följer med och är så snygg och awesome hela tiden!

These Are the Days That Go By...

This was the worst weekend ever! I worked and it was nothing but pure HELL! Don't even wanna recall it, just put it past me and hope one like it never comes around.

Today I've been busy trying to fix things, Anders did a good job cleaning up the apartment this Saturday but there's still a lot to do. I ordered new shoes from Sportamore, Wmns Nike Lunarglide +3, black with turquoise brands in a size 10. I hope they've got them in store and that they send them asap! I long to get out and try my "new feet"... =)
Dad came by and we put up the new shelf in the hall and some paintings and pictures, and blinds for the kitchen. So, I'm very happy!
After that we went down to the lake and had a small bbq, the dogs mostly watched the ducks that swam by though.

Tomorrow we're having friends and Dad over for Yoggi's birthday-dinner, I'm making a warm smörgåstårta and some sort of non-alcoholic punch and then some dessert, not sure what yet.

I've also decided to have Lily of the Valleys in my bridal-bouquet, together with some powder-lilac/blue flowers. They were my Granny's favorite flowers, along with orchids, and they smell WONDERFUL!
I've almost decided to go with a powder lilac and a light green as "theme-colours" for the wedding... So many decisions, so little time... A little more than a year to go... =)

I wish you could smell them!!!

Ghosts From the Past...

We all have a past, that is nothing but facts. Some are fortunate enough to walk through life with a clear slate, while most of us gather some companions along the way -- the ghosts of our past. I have my fair share of them, like a horde following me. Mostly they just tread silently behind me, but sometimes they come out roaring and need to be dealt with. This can be done in different ways, mostly I go for the easiest way: the truth. You can lie and try to keep that up for as long as it's necessary, but that is awfully tiresome and difficult and once you forget and slip -- you have one hell of a mess to clean up. You can close the door and do your best to forget, risking that it surfaces at the worst opportunity possible.

I closed a door once, and ran. I ran for my life and sometimes it feels like I'm still running. I did promise myself never to go back there, to that school, the memories. But I had to return sooner than I imagined and since then, that door just hasn't been properly closed.
We all have to make amends with our past sooner or later and I believe in truth. I'm not talking about silly things, like what you think of someone's hair, but important stuff. I expect the same from the people around me and no matter how much it might hurt, I still believe it's better than any of the alternatives.

I broke down Sunday evening, driving home from Anders' family. Lately I've suffered from quite severe anxiety-attacks, more often than in a long time. Endless tears, difficulty breathing, chest-pains and nausea. Not a pretty sight and so hard to stop once it gets going... Just my luck to get one during a nice walk with his parents and sister... Walked long ahead of them so they wouldn't suspect anything, it's not really the best way to make a good impression on your loved one's family... Threw up in the bushes and hurried home, only to collapse on the floor. Poor Anders.
I had these attacks frequently after Granny passed away and all that happened around that time, along with the horrible nightmares. Since I've met Anders, the nightmares have almost disappeared entirely and the attacks are rare. But since I really started planning a serious future for us, they've made an unwanted comeback. I don't know why -- I'm happier than ever! But the thought of building my own family and my own home, without the love and support that I see Anders gets from his family -- it's choking me. No Granny, no Mum, and what about Dad? He still hasn't recovered entirely from his pneumonia and refuses to see the doctor no matter how much I beg him to. It's what I've got, in terms of family. In terms of the people who are supposed to love me and stand behind me no matter what, I have Dad. And don't get me wrong -- I'm so grateful for him and I couldn't ask for a better Dad and I love him to pieces. But he's old and sick and I don't wanna burden him with anything.
So, here I stand, facing all of this and all these questions on my own. I do have my own kind of family, the kind you get to choose yourself: my friends. I love them above and beyond, but they have their own lives and their own problems to think about and I don't really want to bother them either. And no offense, but no one can ever replace Granny. She would know exactly how to make this right. She would make the tears and the pain go away and I so wish that I could have her back for just one more day. But that's a lie. Because no amount of days would ever be enough, I would always wish for one more.

I can only thank my lucky star that I got Anders in my life, by whatever force. I owe him my life, for I wouldn't be here today if it weren't for him. But no amount of love, joy or happiness can totally erase the ghosts of our past and they come and go as they please. Not much to do but deal with it, it's a part of the life we're given and were we have no right to make up our own rules or our own game-plan.

Que sera, sera. Whatever will be, will be...

The Love of My Life...

Today we've been us for 6 months... That's so strange, I could've sworn it was longer, like 6 years or something.

I wasn't going to meet anybody, I was going to be single for at least a year, after breaking up a 5 year long relationship. I just registered on that dating-site for fun, just to talk, maybe a casual date someday, nothing serious. I was about to end my membership as well, when I got a very special e-mail, from a guy who really knew how to write. I was intrigued, from the first line there was a very special feeling and even though I wasn't supposed to get in to anything, I was trapped. After that, things went from bad to worse, so to speak. With every mail, every line, each time we chatted, then each text: I was reeled in tighter and tighter until at last there was only one way to find out. Talking on the phone. I already knew that his language sent shivers down my spine, but the voice is so important to me... I was scared that I wouldn't like his voice and being the brave man that he is, he tried to catch me off guard, by calling 15 minutes before the appointed time! =) I was in the shower and missed his call... I went outside and walked to a small park nearby, where I called him up again and held my breath. I think I held it for a good while after he started talking, not daring to break the magic spell that obviously was at work that night. For I loved his voice. It was every bit as amazing as I had hoped and dreamed, strong and absolutely enchanting. So we talked. For 6 hours straight and we've kept talking ever since, never running out of things to talk about. Anders has this amazing gift of being able to talk about ANYTHING and still make it interesting! Fascinating! I really think he should work as a teacher, he could teach any subject and I know that his pupils would adore him.

Anyways, after one week of talking for hours on the phone, we had decided that I should come down to Kalmar where he lived at the time. I had told him all of my quirks and he fulfilled all the "qualifications" I had given myself the luxury of coming up with... Still, the butterflies were ENORMOUS! I packed the dogs and drove for 2,5 hours to get to his place in Kalmar. I called him when I parked on his street and I walked out towards his door. He came out and we started running and without thinking about the greatness of it--I ran in to the arms of the man I'd spend the rest of my life with. But after that week-end, that was crystal-clear. Since then, it's been us. Has it only been 6 months? I can't imagine life without him and he makes me the best I can be.

And all those months before he moved here, my crazy little break-down that week before he came here for good--thinking that I needed the apartment to myself a little longer... I laugh now, it seems so stupid.  The day his things moved in to our apartment was fantastic, just as every day since he wrote his way in to my heart!
I was always so scared of the future, but now I really look forward to it, all of it! I've been lucky enough to find my other half, the one person in the world that I'm supposed to be with and now I believe that there is one person out there for all of us--but not everybody finds their person. Sadly, because I think this world would be much better if everyone did find their perfect match. I know I'm a much better person since I found Anders, or he found me, and I wake up everyday wanting to be even better--the best I can possibly be.
I feel braver and more competent since I met him, because even if I don't manage all the things I want to do--I know that I get to come home to Anders every day and he will still love me no matter what.

And that's all that really matters.

I love you more than anything!

Happy Birthday Dad, I Love You!

My Dad was born 77 years ago today, somewhere between a rock and a hard place in the deepest forests of our country. They were 4 siblings, but his elder sister died in a tragic accident when she was 18 years old. I don't know much about my grandfather, he died from colon-cancer long before I was born, I'm not even sure if any one of my elder brothers ever met him. I've seen pictures and since Dad doesn't seem to want to talk about him that much, I've stopped asking. What I do know is that he hit Dad and his siblings, as was almost custom back then. Dad has told me how grandpa made them go and get the twigs he'd hit them with themselves... Awfully cruel and it is impossible to understand that Dad ever suffered such cruelty when you meet him--I have met few kinder people in my days. Rough, yes no doubt, but the kindest man there ever was. Maybe being beaten as a child can do two things to you: either you do exactly the same thing to others as was done onto you, or the opposite: you'd never want any one to suffer as you have done and thus you might even overcompensate?... For my Dad has never, not once, even raised his voice at me. He is amazingly sweet with children and all animals.
I've only seen him cry twice in my life: when I got my driver's license (he was there with me) and of course when we had to put down our first borderterrier Batman.

His life has not been easy, but he has never complained, the viking that he is. He has told me that he dreamt of becoming a surgeon as a child, and this always brings a smile to my face. Not that he wouldn't have been great at it, I have no doubt about that, but when you see his hands today... They're HUGE! After years and years of hard work, they're calloused and scarred and it is indeed impossible to imagine them in an OR... Therefor he has always told me how important it is to have a good education and he has inspired me to do good in school. He is very upset that my biggest dream is to join the police-force though, he's not such a big fan of them... =)

We have always been close, as I've told you before, I trailed him like a puppy when I was a kid and though he has been away working a lot and for long periods of time--that bond never broke. But it became even stronger during the upsetting events that took place in the winter of 2009/2010. First Granny's illness and then Dad's cancer, I could hardly stand straight when he told me what they'd found. Cancer... How can 6 letters contain so much pain and fear? They're just letters, still I know they make people all around the world shiver with fear and grief. I was lucky. We were lucky, Dad and I, he made it out alive, but alone. Mum left him after 30 years in the middle of the worst battle of his life. He can't forgive and neither can I. Because I was there, I saw what it did to him, how it broke him down. My Dad is far from flawless, but he has sacrificed everything to give me and Mum a good life, to make it possible for us to have our horses and it has cost him a lot.
I think a small piece of him died then, he has not really been the same ever since. Mum is out of both our lives since two years back, she remarried only 4 months after leaving Dad and try as I might--I cannot understand how she could do that to him.

Today we're closer than ever, Dad and I. We live only two blocks away from each other and we talk on the phone everyday. I'm glad he and Anders seem to like each other a lot, they talk as if I wasn't there sometimes, but I don't mind.

All I wish for right now, is a happy ending for my Dad. Not like in dying peacefully, I will keep him with us for many years ahead, but in him having something to take joy and pride in again. I wish for a small farm where he can live in his own little house and help out with whatever he wants to do, or just putter around and feel good. I also hope that we'll be able to go to Australia, for that has always been his dream. It's expensive, but I'll do anything to make it happen.

So, Happy Birthday Dad, I love you so much.

Dad's debute in the show-ring!

Glory Days...

That's the title of my favorite Springsteen-song and a great song it is. But this is not about my love for music, it's about another love of mine. The greatest there ever was and ever will be: Granny. As some of you know I lost her to a bad stroke almost two years ago. She was my best friend, my soulmate, the love of my life, she was everything to me. Loosing her almost cost me my own life, the pain almost killed me from the inside. But somehow I managed to stay alive, only thanks to all the wonderful people around me: Dad, Fredrik and his family and my closest friends. Without you I wouldn't be here today and I hope you know I love you all--no matter what. Well, I won't drown in that ditch right now, if you want to read more about it, there's a blog and a book to tell the story: Kära Mormiz.
But, when she had had her stroke she was first in intensive care and that was awful, but at least they're only there for a short time. After that she was placed in a home in her hometown and we went there to visit her many times and that's where this story begins. Though I am sure the staff did the best they could, that was not a good place to be and definitely not a place to recover and gain strength to come back to life.   The rooms where cold and smelled like hospitals do, totally vast and un-personal. The only positive thing was the cat that lived there, it was the joy of their day if the cat decided to sleep in their bed for a while. The food was dry and probably industrial. I couldn't see any happiness in the people living there, they had all just given up. I'm not surprised! A stroke is a very cruel enemy to encounter, everything you are can be taken away in seconds and getting help right away is essential for the recovery. Granny lost her will to live there, I think she wished she had died when the stroke hit her in her home and that she wouldn't have had to suffer all those months at that home. But Mum and I fought like idiots to keep her with us, trying to reach in and grab hold of who she was before her stroke, hoping she was still in there. And on her good days, I think we were close to succeeding, I think we almost reached her and made her remember life before her illness. If you have seen Lord of the Rings-The Two Towers, you know the scene with King Thèoden in Edoras when he is overtaken by the evil spirit of Saruman. There is like a film around him, a mist of some sort and on the other side is the real person, the one they were before--it was exactly like that with Granny. But somedays that film seemed to break up and the Granny we used to know shone through. I'm not sure if this is typical for all stroke patients, but it is the experience I've got and it makes me believe that with the right kind of treatment and stimulation, more people can be saved back to a better life, maybe even a really good life.

I strongly believe that we over-medicate our old and sick today, thinking that a handful of pills will work miracles and nothing else needs to be done with them once they've taken their meds, nothing can be done. My medical expertise is close to none, but I am willing to take in what I see with my eyes and use the poor experiences I have and do something good, something that I believe in.
I don't believe in heavy doses of strong medicines, I believe in humanity, in touch, in empathy, in laughter and I do believe in the healing powers of animals.
Laugh all you want, this is what I believe in. As I've said: I don't know much about medicine and treatments, but I know that animals have a positive effect on most of us. In the States they are used much more frequently than here in Sweden, as we often fail to use them due to issues concerning allergies and such. Some retirement-homes do use dogs and cats though, with great results, as well as in the treatment of children with different disorders and social problems. More about this here in this article from The New York Times.

I also believe that industrially made food is not as good for us as the food we make ourselves, even better if we perhaps can grow some of the vegetables, maybe a few chickens to provide eggs everyday, baking bread instead of buying it (cheaper as well!) and also: let the elderly suggest what they want to eat, can they participate? LET THEM! Reducing them to heaps of meat just sitting in wheel-chairs or whatever makes me FURIOUS! And I see it ALL the time, it breaks my heart. Some may be too weak or too sick to do things, but not all of them. I understand that the work and life of the staff is not and easy one, but this must first and foremost be about the people we care for. It's not their fault that the hours are long and the pay is bad, they've already paid their dues to this country-now it's our turn to take care of them! A little change can make a big difference.

I also noticed that not all of the people living at the same home as Granny, got as frequent visits... This pains me much and though I understand that it might be hard to find the time between a full-time job, kids, husbands and wives, grocery-shopping and what-not--these are the people who brought us into this world! We owe it to them to take time, nothing should matter more in fact. Bring the kids, bring the whole family around. If the weather is good-take a walk outside so the others don't get jealous... =) I can't imagine anything worse than being really sick and maybe close to dying and then be left all alone. Horrible and cruel. No one should suffer or die alone. The security and warmth of a hand on the shoulder or arm goes a long way. Touch can make wonders, if only on the inside.

So--this is the start of my dream. My Glory Days in reverse I guess. A dream and a hope that our last days may be among the better of our lives, when you can rejoice and reminisce about the good old days, but also look forward to tomorrow.
At Glory Days people will live, not be contained until death comes and relieves them.

It started out as a small, quivering thought in the back of my head two years ago. But I thought it impossible, how could I ever achieve all that? Today I only ask myself one question: how could I ever live with myself if I didn't even try?



Emotionally drained right now, I hope to get back to you as soon as possible on this.

When I Say I Don't, I Do.

That might sound totally crazy, but in the right context it's perfectly clear.

I'm hard to live with--I know. I'm headstrong, strong-willed and proud as hell--I know. I speak my mind and take up a lot of space--I know. Some people call me selfish, stubborn and high-maintenance--I know. I'm an only child with two hard-working, absent parents who tried to buy their way out of the guilt. I'm used to people listening to what I have to say, to having my way and the things I want.
Maybe that is who I am if one were to describe me honestly? Right now it feels like hole-in-one... I am my own worst critic and I know my bad sides pretty well without having them pointed out to me. I have had them pointed out to me a great part of my life.
I've crashed and burned many times, more than one person probably should have to. I've gotten back up again and kept on fighting. That's also a part of who I am.
This means that I've been burnt many times and had my heart broken into a thousand pieces. But I still believe in loving with all my might. I still believe that love is the only thing that grows the more you share it and I'm not afraid of it anymore. Before Granny died, I was as emotionally incapable as my parents, who have never told me they love me. I know they do--but they've never said the actual words. After Gran's death--it became extremely important to me to tell my loved ones that they were just that. As often as I can. I hope that they know and feel that every day.

I am only scared of one thing when it comes to relationships: silence. My parents have never, not even once, raised their voices to me. If I had done something to upset them-they just ignored me for a while. This has made me extremely sensitive to raised voices and different moods in people around me. I'm easily "punished": silence or just slightly raising your voice.

My reaction to any sort of argument is that I turn all cold inside: my stomach turns to ice and I can almost feel my blood freezing up in my veins. I cut myself off emotionally and try to shield myself from the pain. I say mean things, things I regret the same moment they leave my mouth, but I'm unable to stop myself. The worst thing is probably that I maintain a good level of argumentation, I can throw rock-solid arguments around me and cause even more damage, anything to keep from getting hurt myself.

But the truth is: I do hurt. I probably started bleeding at the first small quarrel and as it grew--my injuries got worse and worse. And I probably made you think I didn't, but I did. You being angry with me is the worst thing I can imagine and right now I don't know how to make it right...

I'm so sorry for being the way I am, I hope you can see past it and find sides that make up for this.

In an unstable relationship, you can scream at the top of your lungs and still not make a sound. In a strong relationship, you need only whisper to be heard.

The Doctor Says...

...that hopefully it's just a really, really severe case of pneumonia. We went and dad almost killed himself just getting there, so when they heard his heavy, exhausted breath they rushed him into a room and gave him some kind of inhalator to help ease his breathing. Then they examined him and established that his lungs were really badly affected and that the inhalator didn't help at all as much as they had hoped. But since dad is soooo stubborn, we had to let him home with medicines until tomorrow and the doctor made him swear to let me take him to the hospital if things got worse or not even a little better during the night... Stubborn old man!!!
The nurse asked about his health status, he replied: "I've never even been sick!" "Hrm, dad... 2010?" I asked. "Well, that, that was just cancer..." he replied with a smile. You've just gotta love that man, as stubborn as he is!
My dad--one of a kind!

Hold your thumbs until tomorrow and hope he gets better, otherwise it's Södersjukhuset next and x-rays of his lungs...