0n Saying Goodbye to Julie

This is no ordinary April Fool's Day here in Gothenburg, Sweden where I, recently turned 92 years of age, am writing. My daughter, Julie Ann Lundgren, is about to take off at Arlanda Airport north of Stockholm, Sweden - any minute now counting from 13:26 Summer Time in Sweden.

I am alone at home in my apartment on Iskällareliden (Ice cellar alley) in the Örgryte area of Gothenburg, Sweden. I write these words at this time because I am having a unique experience that leaves me reaching for words.

A few months ago, I found and read a memoir by a Swedish essayist who was able to express thoughts that only those of us who are on our way through decade 8 or even have entered decade 9 are there somewhere in our minds surfacing as if they need to be freed for reflection or revelation as spoken or written words.

The essayist was new to me, an intellectual in his 80s who was enjoying the experience of going through these years driven to write and to find satisfaction in doing so. I share with him the joy of writing and have found that doing so gives every single day content and meaning.

Here on the edge of vast forest, Delsjö skogen, I had been given daily lifts be being able to walk or run through my trees and then to sit there looking at my trees to see what questions arose in my mind. Yes, at first I just enjoy as does poet Mary Oliver being in touch with my botanical surroundings. But then questions arise just as they used to do when I as a geologist-naturalist sat down on a bedrock outcrop to see what stories it could tell me, always leading to questions about how these viewed works of art came into being and when and how.

I can no longer walk alone into my forest but I can watch what is happening at the edge and in the brook that winds its way down from the "mountain" in which the lakes that make up are held.

There will be no images today even though they are all tucked away somewhere in my mind but maybe another day.

I write in my blog because it provides a kinder home for words and images than does Facebook. I started writing because saying Goodbye was not so easy. Julie and a few weeks ago her brother gave me so much that I wanted to write about experiences that I share with Julie, life as a naturalist-scientist, she for plants and me for the earth, all of which endlessly evolve.

I add these lines on April 2 with snow falling to whiten the rhododendron leaves I see from my window. Julie's visit was one of the very best one-on-one experiences I have had in this life. She walked here each day from her "House In The Woods" choosing a different route each day, something she can do easily with good map, compass, and her history as a naturalist.

Now only did we get to talk about our past, present, and future but I also got to learn much about some fine qualities and abilities she had. Before I offer one example I note that you may think that to be an odd statement leading you to say:"You do not know your daughter after all these years" 

My reply is that each of us changes individually and many of the changes for the better are only observed over time, and each time (interval) is different. My example: Julie did my United States 1040 SR return for me once and then, on the morning of her departure from 3B realized that several things had to be changed. She sat here at this keyboard, calm as could be, doing one task after another as the time for the taxi to arrive got smaller and smaller. That did no phase her at all. She printed the final version and I signed, saved by her. Off she went leaving me feeling proud for who she is, what she can do, and her lifte time of helping others. Tack så  mycket Jules. Your loving pappa.

A Sunny Day in Sweden