Returning from a long trip is always surreal. The jetlag and my generally light sleep pattern cause me to wake up in the middle of the night discombobulated not knowing where I am due to the vestiges of travel stimuli. The recollections are vivid and wash over me like waves swirling around in my brain in the early morning hours. My mind and memory are full of impressions, reactions, sensations, and images. I spend time in the dark digesting the events of the last month and awaiting daylight.
First, Chris and I travelled to Chicago to spend a week at the National Education Association’s annual national assembly as elected delegates from our union local. It was a week of meetings, eating out, and snippets of enjoying Chicago’s smorgasbord of attractions. Highlights of the meetings included Vice President Biden’s speech at the convention to 10000 educators, an appearance and speech by some of the Wisconsin 14 senators, as well as the general hubbub of the enormous gathering of people in a giant hall. The food in Chicago was infinitely better than in New Orleans, where we went last year for the national assembly and where every morsel was deep-fried and a salad consisted of sections of iceberg lettuce topped with a pound of shredded cheddar cheese, but for me the Chicago hot dog and pizza hype fell flat. It is still junk and the lines to all the famous pizza joints were way too long. An early morning run along the lakefront was memorable. Bulbous clouds were building up over the lake and the breeze was light and refreshing right before the ubiquitous humidity and heat rolled in over gobs of runners, bikers, rollerbladers, and swimmers. Chicago has very smooth and clean—hosed down daily it seemed—concrete sidewalks which allow for some easy barefooting. The requisite Art Institute, tall Willis building formerly known as Sear’s Tower, and handy river taxis all delighted as well.
Then we went to Sweden. Aaah, Sweden, the old country. I had envisioned an amorphous three-week bender of carousing, rambling about the country, and sleeping poorly in diminutive bunk beds. I was correct.
We arrived at Kastrup, the international airport of Copenhagen, and boarded a train for Kristianstad where my sweet sister Rille and husband Björn with kids live. After a few days of good food and drink, we headed by train for Göteborg to meet up with our friends Lisa and Kåre from Portland for five great days of parties with their amazing relatives and island hopping in the archipelago. On the island of Grötö, we encountered the first bunk beds, which actually was an entirely acceptable sleeping arrangement because the bunk beds were housed in a little cottage down a steep path from the main house right at the water’s edge. Sliding big screen doors facing the beach allowed us to rest to the sounds of the sea of Kattegatt. Unforgettable. I envy Kåre who spent every childhood summer on this tranquil island.
Another train ride took us back to Kristianstad with the oft-visited Otto’s ice cream store in Åhus, and nearby Sölvesborg where my parents reside in the country in a small community of summer cottages by the Baltic Sea. It was a whirlwind of my mom’s fabulous cooking, ice cream indulging, and visiting with dear friends and close relatives. My sister Suss and her kids and husband who usually live in London were also at my parents’ place. I met my new niece little adorable Daisy for the first time. My sister Kit along with my nephew Danne came down from Stockholm. One magical evening was spent by the nearby docks and boathouses. The twilight of a summer evening in Sweden lasts for hours and is best enjoyed outside preferably in the company of hotdogs, wine, and people idly dangling their feet from the docks watching the reflection in the water. One of the finest hours indeed.
Stockholm was next on the agenda. A few wonderful days were filled with Kit and Tomas’ hospitality and outings. We saw the state rooms at the Royal Palace, the changing of the guards, had ice cream in Gamla Stan, met up with old online friends in real life, visited Danne’s place of work which is the only remaining cavalry in Sweden, and ate endless good food in the company of wonderful people including my brother Håkan. After two days the train took us back south to my mom’s for another party with neighbors and relatives. You have never lived until you have played bocce ball or petanque late at night in the waning light holding a cocktail in your other hand. The whole international party walked over to a nearby court after dinner. We played hard until it was so dark the tiny ball, the jack, was barely visible. Players trying to mark the spot of the jack using feet and shoes had some close calls with heavy metal balls that night. The American team prevailed and beat out the Brits and Swedes.
The easy living at Rille and Björn’s and the ice cream store beckoned again. The last few days we relaxed at their house enjoying even more good food and beverages. Little niece Alize and Chris had time to develop a special bond despite language barriers. “I love you” easily rolls off even a Swedish three-year-old’s tongue. Blond blue-eyed girls take to him for some reason. He can’t resist Swedish girls and giant freshly made waffle cones filled with enormous scoops of sweet pear ice cream laced with milk chocolate ripples and eaten while walking on a sandy beach.
My visit to Sweden also holds multiple memories of days and evenings with long-time childhood friends, beautiful friends whom I have known for forever and who live entirely too far away but reside permanently in my heart.
Every time I see them, it is as if no time has passed and we just pick up where we left off only a little wiser and more wrinkled. I savor every minute I get to spend in the company of Lotta, Cilla, and Åsa and their families. In my eyes they don’t look a day over 9 like the shiny-faced, bright-eyed and fun-loving fourth graders I remember from good years past. Reconnecting with them and some other dear old friends (Unfortunately this time I missed a few I really would have liked to have seen.) grounds me and gives me a deep and satisfying sense of belonging even when I am far far away in a foreign land.
