IN SICKNESS AND IN HEALTH

I realised today that things may change very quickly when you have a tumour in your head. After a basically wonderful summer for my husband, me and the rest of the family - considering the grief of my mother's death in the middle of it all - we have now been struck to earth with a heavy blow. About a week ago my husband started showing the same symptoms as he did before his brain surgery last October. Reduced mobility and movement on his left side, facial contortions. In short - signs that the tumour is growing and pushing his brain sideways.

I immediately rang the hospital to speed up head scans (not due till late September) and the ensuing doctor's appointment. Today our fears were confirmed. There is growth, fast and furious.

He just finished a five-day treatment of chemo, and another one is planned for the 15th September. In the meantime the doctor has prescribed cortisone to reduce the swelling around the tumour, at a high dosage which will be carefully monitored and changed if necessary. Both the doctor and the nurse were impressed with his stamina - he played golf on Saturday and Monday, went out to dinner on Sunday and is playing poker tonight. He is determined to be up and about and participating!

I gave the doctor and nurse the short version of all that's been going on in our lives right now - having planned and arranged a wedding, moving house and not having sold the old one yet. "But at least you managed a long and relaxing holiday in Bulgaria," they said. "Oh yes, absolutely," I replied, "except that my mother died five days after we got there. The funeral was two weeks ago." I could actually feel their compassion then.

They pointed out something though - my husband has a strong, tight network around him. At every doctor's appointment we all accompany him - my daughters and I. Two weeks ago the newlyweds Julie and Josh came with him, and as the doctor said: "I've met the whole family now!"

Oh yes. We are so incredibly grateful for our daughters' loyalty, support and unconditional love. I honestly don't know what I would have done without them.

Daddy's girls!

In addition I am so lucky to have enormous support from the rest of my family and my friends. I never had any doubt that they all love me, but this! These expressions of constant care and offers of help touch me deeply, again and again. But when they compliment me on my strength during our trying times I find myself thankful - of course - but a bit uncomprehending. I seem to remember promising my husband something about staying with him for better or for worse, in sickness and in health - that rainy day in July thirty-one years ago.

A WEDDING AND A FUNERAL

Again and again it seems to me that joy and sorrow go hand in hand. Happiness and grief. Ups and downs. Easiness and hardship. Possibilities and challenges. Tears and laughter. Hope and despair.

Is it true that opposites attract? That one is simply the mirror of the other? That for every little moment of enjoyment that is dealt you there is a downside?

Someone once said to me: God up there in his heaven looks down at you and sees that you're enjoying yourself. "Oh - I see she's happy again! A new challenge is called for!" And he - God - does the familiar crushing movement with his heel. "Get yourself up again, girl!"

This is what life is all about.

My beautiful daughter Julie got married on the 8th of July. My beloved mother died on the 23rd of July.

I checked my blog and discovered that the last time I published a post was on the 30th June - more than six weeks ago. The events and experiences in the course of these relatively few weeks amount to a lifetime of whirlwind emotions. This whirlwind has almost thrown me off balance a few times… But not quite. Not yet! I'm still standing!

Wedding: YESSS! Successful!! FANTASTIC!!!

Again - the opposites during the days before and the actual DAY... Sun-rain-sun-rain-sun-rain. Which was it going to be? Cold-warm-cold-warm-cold-warm? Oh, wow - the weather gods played with us! As it turned out, they decided to humour us and only drizzled on the marquee and the lawn and the garden furniture in the early hours of the morning and then sent us a short but wild hail storm about halfway through dinner, when we were all safe and dry in the marquee anyway. Then they presented us - as a wedding gift no doubt - with the perfect Scandinavian summer night including a temperature of 20+ until the early hours of the morning. Just teasing us all day long!

Oh, so much to say about the wedding. So incredibly much to say about our fabulous newfound Australian family - Mum and Dad: Kim and Paul, brothers: Sam and Damien, sister: Naomi. Aunt, cousin, friends and mates. The crazy commune that we formed during the days leading up to the wedding, the preparations, the cooperation, the relaxation over an impromptu meal, the conversations, the laughter, the joint forces and efforts of getting everything in place for the BIG DAY. Everyone pulling together towards the same goal. The fun of it all!

 

Then. Two weeks later.

My mother died in her bed at the nursing home, at the age of 88, on an exceptionally hot Oslo evening. She had started to refuse food and drink, which is not uncommon in old people, and it is often the beginning of the end. In her case the end came more quickly than expected, but in a way I am grateful for that. Lying there for days dehydrating would have been terrible, and administering liquid treatment is not always very easy at that stage.

The funeral was on Thursday 14.08.14. All our best friends were there. It was emotional, it was beautiful, it was colourful. It was even humourous. Just like she was.

She touched so many people's lives.

Rest in peace, Mamma.

My Mum and I - 1955

My Mum and I - 1970