Where the past is ever-present

Summer really lingered this year, but slowly it had to give way to cooler air and calmer evenings.

I couldn’t have wished for a better end, or a better beginning, depending on the way you look at it, than to finish my summer in Italy with the person I value the most; my mom.

She was such a fighter as we travelled home the last night:

4 hours on a bus, 4 hours on a plane, 4 hours waiting at the airport at 4 am in the morning (where we run into my drunken friends! ) and almost 4 hours on a train before we arrived our home town. Then she caught a terrible cold and eye infection.

Just like I did now, on the night train from Hudiksvall to Oslo, via Stockholm. Departing at 2.30 a.m and arriving at 2.30 pm, just in time for the late shift at work at 3.

I don’t know why I always push it so hard when I travel.

At home and I did the usual: biked out to the sea side and enjoyed the fresh air, went grocery shopping for grandma and took her out to sit in the sun, took a walk with Pernilla around the market-place, visited my brother and his girlfriend in their new apartment, met up with my boys L-J and Fredric for beer and with my girlfriends for dinner, spent time with Beatrice and her baby boy and Frida, Andreas and the kids.

Children were definitely a theme this time, and perhaps I felt a sting of longing for that future me…

But if anything that person was not there, in this place where the past is present in every street corner and every friend is a reflection of my former self.

Walking with my childhood friend and first love, with his newborn around the neighborhood we grew up in, or having beer with my ex boyfriend in Stockholm, talking about places we’ve been and people we’re seeing, even catching a glimpse of another ex at the central station early in the morning, I couldn’t shake the feeling of nostalgia.

But more than anything, gratitude for all my experiences and choices have led me to where I am today.

And I wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.