It’s time to talk

I am back home (= with A, where I belong; where it’s rainy and cold at the end of May; where my hamster snores loudly; where I know, I have all the time in the world to be with the most wonderful man I know). I somehow survived the last week and a half and still have no idea, how exactly I managed. I am mentally exhausted, drained and need a vacation from my vacation. This being said, I am happy I did get the chance to go to Vienna. I am happy, that I surprised my brothers, I am happy I got to spend time with my grandpa. I am happy I got to spend time with my best friends and I am happy, that every goodbye from my family and friends, is only a temporary goodbye.

When you only have limited time, it flies by.

I am a very organized person, I planned out my ‘vacation’, day by day – far in advance, every hour was carefully planned through. I did this, to ensure I would have enough time to visit with everybody (and not leave anybody out). Most important, of course, my brother. I tried to spend every of Norm’s free minutes with him and his daughter, just because the time, when a little person is so little, is incredibly precious. I know, I had missed so many months already (7 to be exact), so for the time being, I practically didn’t leave her side, unless – of course – it was diaper changing time: the beauty of being an aunt, I can return my little niece anytime to my brother and his spouse and know, that they will take care of it. And I know everyone says this about their nieces and nephews (especially when they are so little), but she is just the most precious thing, I have ever seen. So full of life, so happy, so full of love and most of all, just incredibly wonderful (so yes, Norms, you did a good job!)

I also got to spend an entire day (from 10.30 a.m. – sorry again for being late… until it was almost midnight) with my best friend C, which, giving our circumstances/lifestyles/business, is a lot of time. We hung out, had coffee together, ate ice cream, chips, chocolate, drank some bubbly and just enjoyed the time we had. We talked about all the things we usually would email about and I realized again, that every girl needs a C. I don’t think my life would be half as entertaining without C by my side. I still believe, that one day, when we are old and grey and probably don’t remember each other’s names, we will be at the same place at the same time and just be. Since over the last 5 years I only saw C a handful of times and our time together, was always limited. So one day, when we both have all the time in the world (and don’t have to race through our lives anymore), that’s when we will use the last minutes, hours, days, months and years together and sit next to each other, talking about ‘all the old good times’.

Last but not least I spend some (wonderful and of course not enough) time with my (extended) family. I had a long talk with my grandpa, my aunt, my parents, my brothers. We talked about so many things, important and unimportant things, happy and sad things, craziness and calmness. I believe talking is the most important thing in the world, just like ‘giving someone time’. Time and Talk, I believe you could cure everything (interpersonal) with those two things. Time… Time is what we all need. I say this, because the day of my departure back to Oslo, I stood in front of my grandma’s grave and wished I could hug her, one last time, I wished I could talk to her, laugh with her, be with her, one last time. But that’s the thing with time, you only have limited time, and once it’s over, you need to talk about it.

As I stood, and planted a big flower with the most wonderful orange leaves (she loved colorful flowers) I had ever seen into the soil onto her grave, I talked to her. I took all the time in the world and I talked. About any and everything, just as I would have, if she was still alive. And then I understood, that love with death never dies, it only changes its form. And it made me happy, knowing that even with the limited time on earth we have, we can still talk with each other.

orange flower

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