A load of garbage

Right now I have something on my mind. It's a load of garbage.

Or, more precisely, when I allow it, I can fill my mind with images of piles, heaps, or mounds and stench of garbage, dumped along a village or town roadside in western China, with rats and other animals crawling around amongst the steamy heaps. Or, if I allow my thoughts to wander more, I can picture the kind, tiny old lady who patrolled the campus dumpster, waiting for something that might be worth some money, and then she would climb into the disgusting dumpster and remove whatever she found.

Garbage thrown over a hill in Chengxian, Gansu, China

Garbage is not pretty; and in many places in the world, it is a real problem. The difference between the towns where we have lived and seen garbage is that where many people in the west live, we cannot see the garbage problem. But that does not mean it does not exist. I believe "out of sight, out of mind" is unfortunately true.

In poor areas of the world, garbage is indeed a problem and recycling facilities most certainly do not exist. Therefore, the garbage may pile up in mountains of garbage that can spread pollutants and disease. It felt terrible for us to throw away recyclables in China; although we learned that certain products (cardboard, plastic bottles) were greatly appreciated by the older, poor population who collected them for some money. We began saving our bottles in separate containers and placing them outside the dumpster, and we learned that this was appreciated. But no separate recycling bins or collection facilities existed; those who wanted to make money simply had to find it by themselves by digging through the stinking garbage.

Now, it is easy for people in the west to complain about poorer areas of China or other countries, and think "thank goodness we do not have the same problems." While it is true that the United States or Sweden do not have heaps of smoldering, stinking garbage on poorer campuses or along streets or on river banks, "The U.S. is the #1 trash-producing country in the world at 1,609 pounds per person per year. This means that 5% of the world's people generate 40% of the world's waste." (Recycling Facts article). I am sure other western countries are not far behind.

The problem with this statistic, and what bothers me the most, is that we can do more. We have access not only to garbage removal, but also to recycling facilities. Granted, these can often be improved, but we have them. Even, as we learned today, my tiny hometown of Fertile, MN, has a recycling bin in town where people can bring all of their recycling and it will be taken care of. My stepfather, Bruce, even called the facilities today and learned how it works after a discussion we had (that really impressed me. :) I now know that in Fertile, Duluth, and the Cities, recycling can be all put into the same container and it is separated in the plant. This is unbelievably convenient. Where we live in Uppsala, in our condo building, Tomas and I recycle in different containers in our kitchen, and when one is full we bring it out to the recycling room in the area.

Why is this important? It is important to care for our environment; it is important to recycle also because it gives us a sense of shared responsibility and generally increasing of awareness toward environmental and global issues. Some items are more efficient to recycle than others; according to this article on recycling, for an aluminum can, "there is no limit to the amount of times [it] can be recycled." Whereas on the contrary, if an aluminum can is just thrown away, "An aluminum can...will still be a can 500 years from now!" Plastic is of course bad for the environment and in general needs to be consumed much less, but when we do buy plastic, we can recycle it. According to the same article, for each week's Sunday papers in the US, 500,000 trees are cut down. The article here has a lot of great, short facts that are important to read.

For me as a Christian, and a concerned global citizen, I feel especially inclined to recycle. Some Christian groups share these feelings. I found an interesting article in USA Today about a group of Christians who feel especially called to recycle. In Article in USA Today, Melanie Griffin, director of the Sierra Club, says that "More and more evangelicals are coming to believe creation care is an integral part of their calling as Christians. It is becoming part of their faith." Before Tomas and I were sent to China by Svenska kyrkan, the Church of Sweden, we learned that Svenska kyrkan is quite active in its promotion of the environment and global responsibility (including promoting Fair Trade). This impressed us and I felt this philosophy was truly in line with my own beliefs.

To me (and I know that people may accuse me of being extreme at times), it is an insult to the people in the world who lack access to garbage disposal and recycling facilities (not to mention water treatment plants! another issue altogether) that we do not take full advantage of our own local environments, and do the best that we can. I cannot imagine throwing a plastic bottle into a garbage can; this would disrespect my own local area, but also the kind old ladies who gratefully accepted them from our hands in China, instead of having to crawl through the garbage to look for them themselves, in order to collect whatever they could for bringing them in. Deforestation is a huge problem in many parts of the world; although this is not true in Sweden, I cannot imagine throwing newspapers or paper into the garbage. These can be recycled; to not recycle them, in my mind, disrespects the farmers and people around the world suffering from the effects of deforestation, drought, and floods.

If we are not doing our best; if we are not doing our part, who are we to criticize other people, in other countries? How can we improve our own environments if we do not recycle? And how can we raise our own children without informing them of both the great beauty--and simultaneous frailty--of our earth?

The next generation, and those to come, will certainly not only live in the earth that is left after us; they will also learn from our example. What example are we providing them?

You care for the land and water it; you enrich it abundantly. The streams of God are filled with water to provide the people with grain, for so you have ordained it. You drench its furrows and level its ridges; you soften it with showers and bless its crops. You crown the year with your bounty, and your carts overflow with abundance. The grasslands of the desert overflow; the hills are clothed with gladness. The meadows are covered with flocks and the valleys are mantled with grain; they shout for joy and sing.
(Psalm 65:9-13) 

(More relevant verses, if you are interested, can be found here: Collected Verses)

Midsummer in Dalarna

Midsummer is one of the biggest holidays of the year for Swedes. Celebrated on Midsummer Eve, the longest day of the year, it is often spent with family and friends, and it involves eating things like herring, potatoes, and cake with strawberries. For a traditional festival, a flower-covered Maypole is also raised, after which people join hands and dance around the Maypole (to songs like "Little frogs..." and all kinds of other children's or traditional songs involving lots of action and jumping!) Ethnologist Agneta Lilja has written a very short text about the holiday here, including its origins: Midsummer Traditions

Since we are in Dalarna right now we celebrated Midsummer first with lunch with Tomas's family, with a traditional meal of very salty herring in thin bread, and then we went to the traditional festivities at Hembygdsgården in Dala-Järna. There probably thousands of people had gathered--and thankfully the weather was quite nice. First the Maypole was raised by a group of men, then there were speeches and folk music played by folk costume-clad musicians, and then dancing around the Maypole. Yaminah had a blast--she laughed and danced and never wanted to stop!

Many people wore traditional folk costumes (from whichever area of Sweden they are from) and especially the children are always adorable in folk costumes, and many people wore wildflowers in their hair.

Yaminah and her Great Grandpa Yngve--90 years apart

Yaminah dancing with her second cousin, Esther

Afterwards we were very happy to spend a fun, relaxing evening with my cousins Helene and Charlotte and their families, at our little house, for food, and Tomas's homemade cake with strawberries.

Yaminah ready to start in on the cake with her second cousins, Arvid and Naomi

Thankfully the cool breeze kept the mosquitoes away until late in the evening, and since it was so light outside, the kids were outside in the sandbox and playing lawn games until 11 PM, when we finally forced Yaminah to come inside and go to bed.

Happy Midsummer!

Summer is finally here!

A long, but fruitful, academic year has come to a close and now my studies are no longer the first thing that comes to mind when I wake up in the morning, and the last thing I spend doing before going to bed, with a break for playing with Yaminah in the afternoon. We are up in our house in Hulån, Dala-Järna, a tiny little village in the province of Dalarna, Sweden.

We love coming up to our house, perhaps because it is not the "real world" here. When we are here we are not working or studying (usually); we see family, friends, and relax, and although we have only been here for a few days, we are already busy relaxing. (Is that an oxymoron? :)

So far the weather has been terrible, but today the rain let up and the sun came out, so this afternoon I mowed the lawn (and actually had fun--that tells you that this is not something I do very often), trimmed around all of our bushes and trees by hand, and then retreated to taking some photos. We realized when we were in China that it is very easy to take pictures whenever one is on vacation or visiting someone else, but we realized, when we wanted to show our Chinese students, that we had almost no pictures of our own town, city, house, or apartment. So today I took a few pictures. Call them "images of summer;" it is a welcome summer, even if the cold is causing people to complain and inspiring a fire in our wood-burning stove every evening.

Tomorrow Tomas is going to build a sandbox for Yaminah, and this weekend is Sweden's big holiday, Midsummer's. I hope to write more about that later with pictures.

I wish you a very nice summer, with time for family, friends, and time for resting. I know that it is what I need! I hope that you will find time to do whatever makes you feel happy and more relaxed...or perhaps inspired. We will be travelling a lot this summer, but for the next 10 days we are just going to be here, hanging out. My goal is to make time for things I love, including reading, walking, baking, blogging, dreaming, and of course for time with family and friends. In a few weeks I will also have a chance to travel, which I also love, but for now, I just want to be right here!

"Cozies & Their Successful Sleuths"

This semester I have been busy, as usual, but this time not taking any teaching classes. Rather, I learned that in order to become a teacher, I had to write a "D level" paper. Although I have already done one such paper within Ethnology, I had to do another within the subject of English in order to become an English teacher. (And there is a very long story behind this, of which I will spare you the details). So, this semester I have hardly had any classes at all, except for a few Chinese classes a week. Most of my time I have been studying alone, either Chinese, or preparing for this D level English paper, reading, reading, reading, and finally for the past few months, writing. It is the equivalent of half of a semester's full-time work, and it has taken a long time. But yesterday I finally turned in my paper, and I am so happy that I am finished! I received a good grade, and that is a relief.

I have received a few "requests" from friends who wanted to read the paper, so if you are interested in reading a 40-page paper on mystery's contemporary subgenre, here you are! Please drop me a note if you are unable to read this for any reason. As I learn how to blog, I am learning the technology as well.

Cozies & Their Successful Sleuths... English paper or here: Full D Paper for Web Publishing in PDF

I love singing in Uppsala's Cathedral!

I sing in Collegium Cantorum, one of the choirs in Uppsala's gorgeous Cathedral. Tonight we had a choir concert; we sang the program we will be singing on our choir tour to Austria this summer. I think it went very well! We sang old music, including "Komm" by Bach, Hear my Prayer by Henry Purcell (love it), but also new music, composed by members of our own choir, including a song for oboe and choir by Helena Hansson. I sang a solo in one of the newly-composed pieces, this one written by Mattias Sjöberg. I wish I could post the entire concert here, but if you are interested, here is my solo from tonight, in two parts because I was unable to manage sending it by e-mail as one large video clip. It is just recorded from where Tomas stood, using his iPhone, so the quality is so-so (you will need to keep your computer's volume pretty low). But you can at least listen. Or just listen to one part (not equally divided). Keep in mind I am an amateur, so it is not perfect, but it is fun! I love singing in choir!

Advice for my daughter

Subbing has its ups and downs, certainly. But today's class went great. I gave a presentation on China and we discussed education and poverty. And the students asked questions! What more can a future teacher desire? :)

After class I started thinking, as I walked through Uppsala and enjoyed the sunny day. I gave the students some advice, that they should work very hard to learn English well and that they should also study Chinese in the future. But then I started thinking about other things I would like to tell them. And soon, in my mind, my thoughts were transformed, and I caught myself thinking about what advice I want to give Yaminah, our 2-year-old, when she is older, and a lot of it applies to future students as well. Here are those random thoughts, unplugged, unedited.

Advice for my daughter

Think big; dream big. Be kind to yourself and be kind to others. Recycle, because we need to keep the earth beautiful for our grandchildren and their grandchildren. Smile at little children and strive to be the first person to stand when the bus is crowded or an elderly person comes on. Donate to a cause you find meaningful; giving is an important preventative measure against greed, which can lead to indifference. Travel, as much as you are able. Seeing the world first-hand is the best way to feel like a brother or sister to other people in the world. Nobody is perfect, but everyone can strive to consistently improve themselves. Never stop learning. And then don't forget to pray, because we are not in this alone.

Injustice

In many ways, today was a lovely day. It is Walpurgis Eve here in Sweden, and especially in Uppsala it was a full day. I imagine I will feel inspired to write about today, but not now.

Since I am feeling stressed because I am getting behind on my Master's level "D level" English paper, Tomas and Yaminah went to Nyköping to visit Jonny, Tomas' brother. I am therefore home alone, working late in the evening as usual, listening to my new music list on Spotify, snacking, and trying to stay alert as I read a new electronic book on mysteries.

Then I remember that I should redeem the gift certificate I received from Jonny for an online bookstore, so I begin digging around the desk for it. When I say "digging," it is because right now on my desk there are stacks of cozy mysteries, a lovely glass, calculator, telephone, computer, printer, pile of paid bills...etc. In the living room a pumpkin Yankee candle is keeping my olfactory sense company.

And then suddenly, from the John Denver on the music to the pile of unsorted mail, I am struck by the sharp and unfair unjustice in the world. For several years, Tomas and I have supported a few students through "Barnhjälpen," a Christian aid organization through which people can support children with need in order to enable them to be able to go to school.

We just received a new letter from Barnhjälpen. The girl that we have been supporting for the past few years, in a city in India, has been exchanged for a 4th-grade boy. This is not the first time we have had to change children. The note says (translated here:) "Replaces Jaya H who unfortunately could not continue beyond the 4th grade. Father died and mother needed her at home."

And here I sit with my piles of books, fancy crystal glass, computer, scented candle in the background...oh, and did I mention, new iPhone?...on my messy desk. The thought brings tears to my eyes. Why are there such great differences in the world? Why can't Jaya H continue past the 4th grade? I understand that survival is certainly her family's main concern, but I also realize that this is not only an issue in her city in India. We know that there are millions of children who cannot attend school in China as well, for example. What kind of a chance does a person have when they are unable to even finish elementary school?

The injustice of it all makes me sad, and angry as well. But it also makes me wish that all of the spoiled kids in our countries (in the west) who take their education for granted would be able to catch of a glimpse of the privilege they have. Even if University education in the United States is expensive whereas in Sweden it is free (but taxes very high), at least in these countries education is free through high school. This is certainly something that people take for granted.

Jeff Buckley's "Hallelujah" is now on, caught up to me on my new playlist. Ironic indeed.

"Replaces Jaya H who unfortunately could not continue beyond the 4th grade. Father died and mother needed her at home."

Happy Birthday...Hurrah

It's that time of the year again...for another birthday. But I am  not one who dislikes birthdays. On the contrary, perhaps I am a bit Chevy Chase Christmas Vacation-esque in the way I like to prepare for these occasions. (And Tomas' polite "don't you think you might be going a little over the top?" didn't worry me one bit; one only has a birthday once a year, after all!) I do think that birthdays are important--in my opinion, birthdays are a celebration of another year of life.

Yaminah, two years old, has been very excited about my birthday as well. For days she kept pointing at Tomas' closet, saying "Daddy secrets!" and when the big day arrived, she broke into "Happy Birthday" several times, and other times she just looked at me and said, "Hurrah."

First of all, I know that in many families with young children, people say "No more presents! Just for the children!" but in our family, we all love giving and receiving gifts and we have no plans of stopping. Well, perhaps I should replace "we all" with "certainly I..."  And I admit that whenever anyone asks, I usually (okay, always) have a wish list underway just in case someone needs it.

Of course, getting older is not what I like about birthdays (except that one can hardly deny that one keeps getting a little bit better each year; am I right? :) Well, at least some aspects of life keep getting better. Through my studies I have learned more this year, which is nice. A lot has happened within our family too, with Yaminah growing up more each day. But I did catch myself thinking, as I baked herb bread for my birthday party (don't look for a recipe however; that fancy bread is now safely in the compost after presumably failing with the yeast) something along the lines of "Wow, I must be getting older because I am so out of shape kneading this dough!" As I kneaded, and kneaded...and like I said, to no avail, since I am pretty sure I had killed the yeast right away. But then I paused for a moment in my hard labor and reflected upon the fact that I cannot actually recall when I last baked bread at all. Bread-baking has never been my forté (I am more of a cookie/muffins/cupcakes kind of person). So then I felt a little better and just realized that my lack of bread-baking skills has nothing to do with age.

As I prepared for the party, I thought back to previous birthdays and was alarmed by how few I can actually even remember. Of course, up until a certain age one can blame one's parents. But who can one blame after the age of 16? How is it possible that I have forgotten how I celebrated so many birthdays? Ahem, I mean...not that there have been so unbelievably many birthdays since 16... In any case, I think I need to start keeping a fun book of records. Only because it is fun of course; nothing to do with an advancing age.

This year I have actually been feeling nearly overwhelmed with my studies and realized that throwing any kind of a party at all would be a real challenge. But what else is night for, if not cleaning, planning, and baking? So I decided to invite a group of friends (sans children). What should my theme be, I wondered? Finding cute flowered napkins answered that question. The theme would be pink and red. I told Tomas and I am sure he was quite interested, especially when the day before the party he was going to Stockholm for a class trip for the day and I requested he look for pink and red flowers, and I asked if he wanted to bring a napkin with him to aid in his search. I might have received a strange look when he politely declined and thought he could manage without the napkin.

After cramming in studies and a flurry of activity (most of it very late in the evening when the little girl was sleeping), it was ready. We were nine people total who enjoyed a fun evening of conversation and laughter, and I must say, the menu turned out to be quite good as well. I managed a second batch of bread that turned out this time. And the recipe called for minimal kneading so no problem that my arms may or may not be a little out of shape, no matter what my current age might be.

Chocolate cake with raspberry mousse

The menu (which I realize is mainly appetizers and dessert--but these are my two favorite courses so I figured, why not?)

Welcome drink (nonalcoholic):
Apple Sparkler Drink

First:
Toast Skagen
Salad with fresh strawberries, walnuts, and parmesan

Second:
Jerusalem Artichoke Soup served with homemade herb breadsticks and shredded cheddar cheese


Dessert(s):
Delicious Chocolate Cake with Raspberry Mousse
Peanut Blossoms cookies (for which I now use Natural Peanut Butter for added flavor)
Thumbprint cookies with homemade raspberry curd Homemade raspberry curd cookies (only in Swedish right now)
Brie cheese with pears

Apple Sparkler Drink

Herb breadsticks (recipe from Betty Crocker),
served in beer glasses from Fitger's in Duluth, MN

Peanut Blossoms

For decorations, I snipped a few of the gorgeous tulips Tomas brought home and put into baby food jars with pussy willow branches.

Our Easter, Swedish traditions, & tasty sweets

Today is Easter Saturday or "påskafton", which is when most Swedes celebrate Easter. (Swedes almost always celebrate holidays on the eve of the holiday, such as for Midsummer's and Christmas).
We are happy to have my mom here for Easter this year, and my grandfather, 92 years old, also lives in Dala-Järna, where we have our house, so along with Tomas's family here, we had lots of time for family.

Morfar, 92 years old, on Good Friday

For Good Friday we all went to church for services; "Easter Eve", today, we celebrated by having a morning coffee or "fika" at our little house for Mom and Tomas's family. For the fika I made Easter cupcakes from a recipe my beautiful new cupcake cookbook by Leila Lindholm. They are almost sinfully delicious, with freshly-ground hazelnuts, Nutella, cream cheese, and a bird's nest of marzipan, topped with tiny chocolate eggs. (Recipe here http://lifeandacupoftea.blogspot.se/p/favorite-recipes.html which is under tab "Recipes").

Easter cupcake

This afternoon we dressed Yaminah up, according to Swedish tradition, as a "påskkärring", or Easter witch. We went around to a few houses where Yaminah knocked on the door and gave the family a hand-drawn Easter card, and was very surprised and excited to receive some chocolate or fruit in return to put into her little pail.

Yaminah is our little "påskkärring"

For those of you who can read Swedish, here is a short, but interesting article about how the tradition of the påskkärring may have come about. http://www.vf.se/node/8915 and here the Swedish newspaper in English, the Local, writes about modern Sweden's Easter traditions as well: http://www.thelocal.se/3525/20110421/ Time Magazine even has a special article about strange Easter traditions, and the Swedish "påskkärring" or Easter witch tradition is presented. Some say that the tradition of påskkärringar is actually from a very dark time in Sweden's history, when people were terrified for witches and they were even burned. Now people think of påskkärringar as cute little girls and boys who visit people's homes, deliver an Easter greeting, and probably receive a few coins or candy in return. This reminds me a little of Halloween traditions at home in the States. http://www.time.com/time/specials/packages/article/0,28804,1889922_1890008_1889927,00.html

With a Master's in Ethnology, of course I can't help but feel fascinated by different cultures and the way they celebrate their traditional holidays. The most important thing is to be together, and spend time as a family. Many Swedes go skiing in the mountains for Easter. But Easter is especially interesting because it is a mixture of a Christian holiday--with beautiful church services all around the country, from all of the lovely, melancholy Good Friday music to joyful and uplifting Easter Sunday hymns--to cute little Easter witches with a dark history that spans hundreds of years.

Although I am interested in celebration of holidays, as a Christian I think the weekend has a greater, deeper meaning, one that has a real potential for joy and hope, even in today's world. Although I was unable to take a picture, you can imagine the simple cross of greens, embedded with red roses, that was an altar decoration at the Good Friday service yesterday. And although the colorful Easter eggs that Yaminah and her grandma painted together are pretty, I think the altar decoration simply, and cleanly, symbolizes the pure beauty of the meaning of Easter.

Yaminah and her grandma painting Easter eggs

Happy Easter!

Letters & laughter: One year after Grandma

One year ago tomorrow became Grandma's last day on Earth, after 101.5 years. Thinking about this makes me mad actually. Even starting to write this makes me mad. But it also makes me sad. Sad, mad, sad, mad... these are of course natural feelings that people have when they lose someone who was close to them. But tonight I am not going to attempt to write an article on grief. Rather, I just want to sit and write a rambling letter as scattered as my own thoughts appear in my mind.

One year has passed without Grandma. This thought makes me mostly sad. Several times during the year I have caught myself thinking of wanting to do something for Grandma. I caught myself looking forward to sending our Christmas card to Grandma; same thing happened last Mother's Day, now Easter... I loved sending cards and letters to Grandma--probably because she was the one person who I knew truly appreciated it. That made it so much more fun. I actually did not know this, but she has probably kept every card and letter we have ever sent her in a box. Going through all of them after the funeral, it was a trip down memory lane for me as well. Cards and letters were a way to keep in touch with Grandma, even though I have been living in Sweden and China for the past 12 years. Of course we called as well sometimes, but cards felt more special. Grandma herself was a master of letters and correspondence in general. Even when she was nearly blind, she kept writing letters to people including in Sweden, in Swedish, a language she could write in although I am not sure how she did it.

The thing is, right now what I wish more than anything is that I could write another letter to Grandma. It would start like this, "Dear Grandma, we haven't talked for a whole year now and there is so much I want to tell you!" and then, first, I would tell her all about Yaminah, because she absolutely loved hearing about her and loved hearing all of the funny stories we would share. Then she would laugh and laugh.

But since I cannot write another letter to Grandma, and since I am getting tired of feeling mad that she died, I think it would be better to think back to her life. In reality, this could instead be a letter to Yaminah. If I had chosen to write a letter to Yaminah, it could begin like: "Dear Yaminah, do you want to hear again about your name? Yaminah Hildur Elisabeth...let me tell you about your Great Grandma Hildur. We talk about her every time you light a candle for her in church, but now I want to tell you what she was really like."

Then I would write about all kinds of random memories that pop up, like about the time when I was perhaps in high school (I am not the one with the good memory here; sorry folks--Grandma had the best memory!) and we were all sitting together for a nice dinner (can't remember the occasion; sorry--see my point?) Anyways, it was a nice dinner and I remember that I was trying to be nice and help Grandma, so I offered to get the gravy and pour it over her food for her, which I did. A little later Mom asked something like "Where is the butterscotch pudding?" and it turns out, that is what I had poured all over Grandma's nice dinner... and if my memory serves me right, all she said was "I thought it was a little sweet!" and then she laughed and laughed.

But most of my memories of Grandma and actually not so easy to put a finger on. They are more a long movie, with some individual scenes, but mainly the movie just keeps playing in my mind of all kinds of images. Playing outside at Grandma's old house when I was a kid; Grandma's delicious homemade cinnamon toast (have never tasted better); watching sports and Golden Girls at Grandma's; Grandma staying up way too late to sit up and visit with us when we came; Grandma's laughter when all of the people around her, Floyd & Marge, grandkids, other people... would tell stories... she never tired of visiting with people.

Always witty, you never could be sure of what Grandma's response would be. Right around the time of the China earthquake in 2008, just before I think, Grandma was very sick and in the hospital after a fall. Feeling emotional, I remember I called her from China. I said something like "I am just calling to say Happy Mother's Day, Grandma!" to which immediately responded, "I wish I could say the same to you!"

And in fact, when the time did (finally, she could say...) come for Tomas and I to have a baby, I called to tell her the news. I said something like "You're going to become a great grandmother!" to which she sort of mumbled, "It's about time!"

I will forever be grateful for the time that Yaminah and Grandma had. Grandma loved watching Yaminah sit, then crawl, then run; she thought it was hilarious to watch. (Here are a few moments on video). Grandma thought it was great that Yaminah used the potty when she was only a few months old, and I think on the third visit to Grandma with Yaminah, I had understood the hints about her clothes. Then Grandma said, "NOW you look like a girl!" when I finally dressed her in a very flowery summer dress.

I wish I could remember some of the great stories Grandma told us all about when she was young. Since she lived over a century and had such a great memory, everyone around her was able to experience her experiences through her stories. She told us about hearing the bells when World War I ended, and she ran out into the street. Luckily for everyone, she has summarized her life history in a document that we have, but can a life be summed up in just a few pages? No, but family history and details are documented.

I am afraid that if I would have been able to write a letter to Grandma, that it would have been very, very long. And if this would have been a letter to Yaminah, it would have been even longer. For how can one describe someone through a piece of paper?

Recently I have been thinking about the importance of memories, people, and time. Ten, fifty, two hundred years from now, will any of this matter? Is it important to remember our loved ones, the ones who have gone before us? Because one generation later, will they continue to be remembered? Of course some people will be documented in history more than others; some people will hold public office, will make great contributions to society that will enable them to be remembered, etc. Grandma did not make any gigantic contributions to society in the sense that the history books would require. She was a great lady, one that deserves to be remembered. But after thinking about this for quite a while, I do of course think that we should remember individuals in the past as much as we can. We all want to be remembered. But I think the most important thing is that we are who we are because of the individuals who have touched us in our past. We become changed, formed, from those who have touched us. And we will continue to influence all the others that we meet, whether they be our own kids, or our colleagues, strangers on the street...

If I would have been writing a letter now the old-fashioned way, like Grandma would have done it, my hand would have been cramping long ago and if it were Grandma who would have written, she would have ended with "I hope you can read this chicken scratching!"

So I think I won't write a letter after all. I think I will just take another stroll down memory lane.