My grandfather died last summer.
His favourite color was pink. His coffin all covered in pink flowers.
As a child he would take my hand and we would walk about down by the river.
He taught me the names of all of the flowers. My grandfather knew of many worlds.
They say the Scandinavians have an unhealthy relationship to their children (I say that too).
To foreigners our kids may appear undisciplined and anti-authoritarian. Spoiled.
It is forbidden by law to spank children as it is forbidden by law to home school them.
(truth is that we have found other methods of punishment quilt being king in this kingdom).
But we´ll do anything for the children.
We´ll sacrife everything for them- privacy, agency, power, freedom, self-government.
For their sake we have reinvented serfdom (the kid will suffer eternal trauma if you change, if you move, if you switch schools, if you have different standards, if you´re different) for the sake of the children, for the sake of the children and thus the children have become an elaborate form of social control.
We use them against each other.
Which is not really loving the child for the sake of the child- but for the sake of the power of the child.
Which is truly egoism.
My grandfather knows. My grandfather will see right through all of that.
My grandfather knew of an OLDER kind of love for the child.
The love of the child runs deep in these landscapes, it is rooted into our culture, the kin is of uttermost importance. We´re clan people. Centuries of long, dark winters unable to leave the home, knee-high snow. Also we have many ghosts here.
I´m thinking about it because most of my children are more or less grown ups now and I didn´t expect that fact to change me so much but it does. My notions of privacy, agency, power, freedom, self government… it´s not really that simple you know… to just stand there in the door opening and wave to them.
I´m a different person now. Different rules and laws apply.
It´s funny how I see things now that where previously invisible to me, I just didn´t notice, we were tramping around.
It´s straight up unbelievable how this whole experience in the woods have opened my eyes (or reminded me of something I forgot along the way), the beginning of a transformative proces much greater than anticipated.
It´s been raining for days. Whenever it stops we go outside, the child and me- and we go look at the smallest flowers which somehow seems to be highlighted in late may.