The absurdity of it all
Woke up to a reminder of just how desperate, hectic and horrible moving out of the home Kalle had bought for us had been - filling a hundred moving boxes in one evening, finding a moving company for the same night, actually finding a place to move into at a moment's notice... All this, two days after his death.
My friends did everything, the house was full, some of these wonderful people I'd never even met, all coming together to save me at my utmost shipwreck heartbreak moment.
My personal contribution was finding a corner in the bathroom, hiding there and crying like I haven't cried since I was a baby.
I heard somebody calling worriedly: 'Has anybody seen Kaisu?' And another voice answering: 'She's there crying on the bathroom floor'. Then a third, commanding voice: 'Nobody else collapses tonight but Kaisu. The rest of you, save it for tomorrow! Now pack!'.
I heard somebody calling worriedly: 'Has anybody seen Kaisu?' And another voice answering: 'She's there crying on the bathroom floor'. Then a third, commanding voice: 'Nobody else collapses tonight but Kaisu. The rest of you, save it for tomorrow! Now pack!'.
So. This morning kids wanted cacao with their muesli. Found a box that was half filled with cacao, the top half stuffed with my antique jewelry. Lid closed with scotch tape.
Thank you dear friend, who ever you are, for this creative solution :).
I never thought I'd laugh at the memory of that night but this morning, I came close.
