SEA BREEZE IN A DROP OF WINE

 

I never tire of the views from my Bulgarian balcony. Sitting there at all hours of the day, hot mornings, balmy afternoons, cool evenings, I hardly ever seem to be able to concentrate on my reading because my eyes are always drawn to the sea, the sky, the horizon and the inland foothills where the sun sets. When I came down here on Wednesday my view was obscured as usual by a crazy monster wisteria which grows out of all proportions and completely takes over the whole balcony. Some years ago it had grown into the air conditioner and entwined the fan blades. Fortunately we noticed the mad killer plant before we turned the air conditioner on. It looks beautiful from below though - I must admit - but wow, have I had some fierce battles with it! Next summer I'm buying a saw, and I've informed the head gardener of my plans.

Before

After

It turned out it was a great idea to come to Bulgaria for a short holiday in between visits to the doctor, house sale hassles and general worries about my husband's cancer development. It is good to get away and shift our focus. The fact is he's not responding to the cortisone treatment that the doctor hoped would reduce the swelling around the tumour. Even with the largest dose there didn't seem to be any signs that his left side was regaining normal function. So the dose is lowered again, as there is no point in taking the high one, and we place our trust now in a new type of chemotherapy that he's not tried before. He asked the doctor about his prognosis if this chemo does not keep the tumour growth stable, and she replied with just one word - Christmas. I wish I had not heard. But as long as he wants to know I suppose she's obliged to answer, though I think there are other ways to convey this brutal message. It was too harsh for me, and for him too after all - when I see the way he's brooding now.

But because we're determined to make this a happy break, we do the things that he likes. Going to his favourite seafood restaurant in the nearby town of Bourgas, cooking at home the food that he enjoys, taking him to the Casino to play poker. This afternoon we went wine tasting at the Dives winery just up the road and ended up buying the most expensive wine I've yet to come across here in Bulgaria.

The Dives estate is perched on a hilltop overlooking the Black Sea

It was excellent! The most expensive red - the Merlot Barrique Special Selection - boasts this: "Gorgeous crimson color, with black cherry and blueberry aroma complimented with chocolate, roasted coffee and tobacco. Elegant dense body with delicate palate, soft tannins and prolonged final. Good to mature." Oh yes! This wine will bring back memories of sunny Black Sea days, Bulgarian soil and sea breeze while consumed on a stormy Norwegian autumn night!

Lazy days with daughter Sophie and friend Svein, dinner invitation for delicious home made fish soup and grilled swordfish with Bulgarian friends, candlelit evenings on the balcony, an excursion to the ancient town of Sozopol - even the fact that we were able to rent a wheelchair in Bourgas! These are the small pleasures that I'm so glad we got a chance to enjoy while my husband is still fairly mobile.

A weather change came about last night with a wild storm that sent my drying underwear whirling from the clothes line on the balcony and had me and Sophie practising the new sport of underwear fishing from neighbouring roofs and canopies. We had dinner last night outside before the storm lashed out, but this evening it's ice cold and indoor time with doors closed.

Happy Hour cocktails in Sunny Beach

Mussels sprinkled with feta cheese

Svein's terrace

A little shopping - beautiful rose hair claws

 

September flower buds, chili and basil - having survived five weeks without my tender care

Yes, I had time to go to the hairdresser's before I left for Bulgaria. Good therapy!

If not exactly the days of wine and roses for our little family, I think it's important to grab hold of a day of wine here and a day of roses there.

These days will be an investment in the Bank of Good Memories.

HUMBLENESS

I am always intrigued by the way devout religious people believe theirs is the only true faith, whether it is Christianity, Islam, Judaism, well, you name it. How can they be so sure? I am never sure of anything in life, so how could I ever claim that my views are the truth? How can we possibly know whether it is the Bible or the Koran that shows us the way to eternal afterlife? Or if indeed there is an afterlife?

In my last blog post I felt the need to philosophise a little bit on my own humble thoughts of God, and to my surprise and joy I received an enormous response, perhaps the most I've had during my one and a half years of blogging. It makes me so pleased that these ramblings of mine touch other people's hearts and that they go through similar explorations.

Though I'm basically a peace loving and conflict shy person I'll never back away from a discussion on religion. (I learnt while I lived in England - never converse on religion and politics! Did they say "sex" too? I can't remember…)

I stumble and fumble through my own existentialism, maybe more so now than ever before, but I know this: I will always strive to be a better person. As Jesus is the one religious figure I was brought up with (according to my general childhood Protestantism), I believe he really did strive towards that goal. At least this is what I remember from school Bible lessons. He was generous, lenient, tolerant and loving. He met strangers with an open heart.

Now this is where my logical sense literally crash-lands. I have met many devout believers who are totally intolerant, blindly dogmatic and uncompromisingly faithful to the Bible. Or… I think they make the words of the Bible fit with their own terrain. I cannot see that they live by Jesus' words of unconditional love. Then I've met atheists who are humble, empathic, loving and set tolerance first, and they do plenty of charity. They are much more Jesus-like than those devout Christian believers. Of course this is not categoric in any way.

A devout Christian explained this to me: "It's about salvation. Your deeds are only a minor part of it, because God forgives whatever you do or don't do as long as you BELIEVE and have welcomed Jesus into your heart.." I think she even came up with the percentage of deeds versus faith and salvation. This makes no sense to me. I'll go with the good deeds any day, and so would Jesus, I think.

Angels in the sky? Or God?

I think of these questions a lot nowadays. During the abundant newspaper weekend my eyes skimmed an article on the lack of humbleness in our society. Yes! It struck me! Humbleness is not being servile or stupid or low in confidence. It's got nothing to do with deprecating yourself or belittling your personality or feeling low and humiliated. Humbleness is simply the opposite of arrogance and pride. Humbleness has to do with meeting other people with respect. I suddenly remembered this as one of my father's main guidelines. And he's maybe the strongest and most assertive person I've ever known, but at the same time he was tolerant and openhearted and not least adventurous.

And talking about praying and believing. Though he died nineteen years ago my Dad is still such a big part of my life. I sit at his grave every once in a while and ask his advice - as I used to do when he was alive. Hmm…. Does he answer me? Yes and no. All I know is that I leave his grave feeling appeased.

My Dad

New York 1958

A busy week ahead of us in this little family - doctor's appointment tomorrow morning to prescribe new chemo. Cortisone not working. Hairdresser's for me in the afternoon - always therapy and much needed now! I look like someone out of Harry Potter - and I don't mean one of the good characters… (Halloween coming up soon and I could join without a costume)… Then meeting to sign over to us the new flat on Tuesday morning - not having to pay for it yet though, fortunately - later on dentist appointment for my husband Tuesday afternoon. And THEN!! Leaving on a jet plane for Bulgaria at 0610h Wednesday morning. Yes. Believe it or not. Wheelchair booked at the airport, both when leaving and arriving back in ten days. This is what my husband wants, so this is what I want. Simple as that. Best friend Svein is coming too, and daughter Sophie.

We are going to have a good holiday. Now is the time that we do whatever we want to do.

Badly in need of hair treatment

Cat enjoying new recliner

Sunrise from my Bulgarian balcony. Sunrise you ask?

LOOKING FOR GOD

Sub specie aeternitatis. From the perspective of the eternal.
Baruch de Spinoza. (1632-1677)

No, I have not become a Latin student. I am just looking for my God.

Today I read an article about a family who lost their 13-year old daughter in a road accident this January. It was a horrible and meaningless accident - two young girls riding a short way on a straight piece of road in a horse buggy and being hit from behind by a car, the driver apparently not even realising how it happened. Both girls died. One of the dads has written about his grief in a book published today. Being a devout Christian believer he explains how he is now at war with his God, and at present he does not know how long this war will last. I found myself respecting and admiring his honesty immensely.

I've contemplated this today. Not least while I was soaring through the blue water of the swimming pool, at first with a guy who gulped a friendly "hello" at me, but after I beat him at every length he gave up and I had the pool to myself.

I have no God to be angry with. Though had I been in this dad's situation - having lost a child... I don't even know if I would have been able to survive it. Now this is when you can talk about being strong! He says: "No, it's not a parents' worst nightmare. It's even worse." We have friends who've been through losing a child. My heart bleeds for them every single day. I look at my daughters and granddaughters then and think: We need to cherish every moment. And keep the memories of the children who died in our hearts. This is in fact the dad's mission by writing the book - take care of each other - EVERY DAY!

I have known for long that I am not a religious person in the Christian sense of the word, or in any dogmatic sense at all. Sure enough, I too have sworn and shouted and prayed and begged for justice during my husband's illness - and at other troubled times in my life - but I've never really been absolutely sure who I've directed my pleas and curses at. Or no. I know there is someone out there.

This someone IS my God, and he is in everything. For me - he - or she - or it - is the world. The world, big and small, and the objects I see and feel. The stuff that surrounds me. The small things I take pleasure in. My enjoyment. My sorrows.

My God is in nature, in breathtaking orange sunsets (I don't see sunrises that often…), in my walks along blue seafronts in every country I've ever been to, in the fresh mountain air that helps me breathe deeply from my stomach. My God is in the sudden splash of a wave, in the first pink spring tulip, in a white seashell, in a shady path through the woods. My God is in a bowl of mussels with chili sauce, in a glass of rosé, in a green olive filled with feta cheese! My God is in my wool knitting, my book (always in a book!), in a colourful but sad Munch painting, and especially in very loud rock music - tonight it was legendary band Thin Lizzy! Or in the smooth slow jazz of Stan Getz. My God is in a Latte and a laugh at the pier this afternoon with my tall gorgeous dark-haired friend Berit. Or in the walking and talking at endless lengths in the Park with best friend Grete.

And suddenly my God is in a message from someone who meant a lot to me nearly forty-five years ago: "Thinking of you both."

Most of all my God is in my family and my friends, but also in everything and everyone I see and meet on my journey through life. I once had an epiphany of this - which only strengthened previous experiences - it was so strong it stayed with me and always will. It has somehow become my guiding light:

My husband and I were driving at leisure through a Hungarian village some years ago, so far from home. As usual we were on an adventure, not knowing exactly where we were heading. Well, we were heading to our holiday apartment in Bulgaria eventually, but I had asked him if we could take it easy, not rushing past everything on the motorway. So we took a detour to Lake Balaton - planning next to spend the night in the historic town of Györ, to celebrate our wedding anniversary. Suddenly - driving slowly through this random little village, of which I can't even remember the name, on our way to Györ - I noticed with overwhelming clarity the pink and red dahlias in the windowsills of the modest but well kept houses, the rows of fresh vegetables in the small plots, the lives lived in these worn out streets. It struck me: this is what unites us as human beings - wanting to make the best for ourselves and our families, to live normal everyday lives with flowers in windowsills, to live in peace with our neighbours.

Lake Balaton

Serbian-Bulgarian border

  

Györ

My guiding light is this: We are all part of the same human race, thrown together on the same planet, with the same hopes and wishes. Dahlias in the windows or not. We are all set on the same goal - a peaceful and decent life for ourselves and our children. I've seen this of course not only in that small village in Hungary, but also in the streets of Jakarta, in New York City, in the countryside of Bulgaria, in Africa, in the Middle East which I love dearly - in the poor and the affluent. I know it from myself, that's why I also know that my hopes and wishes are universal.

Call me a naïve pantheist, call me a Spinozian. It'll be an honour. I think Spinoza would have enjoyed a glass of rosé and a bit of Thin Lizzy with me. And a detour around Hungary.

Balance, perspective and not least tolerance. Hah - and a bit of craziness! It's what keeps me going through my life. 

This is my God, summed up. We are all part of eternity.

THIS IS ME - OR NOT

How cool is it to write about yourself, to analyse yourself? How interesting is it for other people to read? And how right will you be, how ACCURATE? 

"NOT" is probably the short answer to all the above. Basically you can't really analyse yourself in any objective way - if you do make an attempt it's called self-knowledge, which may be defined as a thorough and conscious insight into your own personality. It can be taught through therapy, but more often it will be acquired gradually with the innumerable lessons and failures in your life. Hopefully it will also be a huge part of what you experience and process through the feedback you receive from your surroundings - your family, friends, work colleagues and random people you meet on your journey. 

My sister Kari said it simply and beautifully in her eulogy at our mother's funeral: "Our Mum was always saying that she received such good service everywhere. Well, that's no wonder - people will behave towards you as you behave towards them." Yes. Your behaviour towards others will reflect in theirs. A polite and friendly attitude will - usually but not always - spark off the same emotions in the other person.

This is me - on the left! - at 6 months

At 7

So - why am I philosophising on this theme? Lately I seem to have evoked a lot of emotions in other people, in short touching some hearts, with subsequent words of great warmth and recognition - and it has started me thinking. Am I that fantastic a wife to my very ill husband? Am I really a tower of strength, a beacon of light and hope? Am I the glue of the family, the reason we all don't go crazy with worry and fear?

Having taken some time to reflect on all these lovely - and loving - compliments, that most certainly give me a boost and help me keep my head above water, I have discovered that the answer is Yes. And No. 

I am doing what anyone else in my situation would do. I don't actually know anyone who has been in the same situation as I am at present - watching a husband get slowly weaker and sicker with terminal cancer - but I am CERTAIN that each and every one of us is in possession of unknown and hidden wells of strength that we will draw upon when necessary. We might all have a million different ways of going about it, but I honestly don't think I am unique. I need only look at my daughters - they are full of positive energy that lifts us all up. Not to mention the optimism of my brave brave husband.

At 15

At 17

At 19

At 21

At 23 with sister Kari

At 25 with brother Harald

At 37 with youngest daughter Sophie

At 50-something

At 50-something-more

If I should muster up a little self-knowledge, just to accommodate those heartfelt compliments and follow up that "Yes" from the questions above, I know that I'm blessed with basic characteristics such as optimism, humour and a strong sense of loyalty. I'm lighthearted enough not to take myself too seriously. But serious enough to be reflective and confident and comfortable in my own skin.

And my self-knowledge also tells me that I have hundreds of negative personality traits - which I won't go into now! (Except maybe mention my temper, my impatience, my silliness…. hmmm…. can't think of any more….) Well, the most reliable people to ask are my family! They won't hesitate to tell you…

As a child and teenager I used to be embarrassed at my mother's friendliness towards everyone. But in the course of my fifty-odd years I too have discovered that a smile goes a long way. How simple is that!? During these inexplicably hard times for me and my small family we try to smile - every day. Even if it's sometimes through tears.

A quick visit to my park today to take in the glorious Indian Summer here in Oslo

This evening