LadyBohemia — Everyday Poesie RSS

Something most extraordinary happened to us today.

When bringing my children home from school, my son gave his seat to an elderly man who came  to sit next to me and my boys, us climbing then to sit on top of one another. This man started chatting us up, about interesting things, stuff we wanted experience in life. 

He wanted to ride a helicopter. And kick around on a scooter, like my sons. Among so many other things that made the eyes of my boys dangerously shine.

My dream is to dance the Argentinian tango. In Buenos Aires, preferably. And some day, to visit Tibet.

But the amazing thing was - I saw it in the eyes of both my sons, they felt it too - this man so incredibly resembled  my father (whom my children had lovingly called Pappa like I'd called my father's father before him - a family tradition). It was truly like having our Tapsa Pappa back for a moment. The same untamed laughter, same politically incorrect spanter. No concern of what anybody around us thought of his loud voice. Such beautiful an encounter, and not in the least bit sad.

When we waved goodbye to this man, my oldest son said it first. "Maman, did we just make a new friend or is he actually an old friend, if he's just like Pappa?"

My little one commented; "I was starting to forget what Pappa was like but now I remember again."

"Never forget! You can never forget Pappa!" ordered my eldest.

We walked home in silence. A rare silence, all of us filled with a rare  gratitude.

We had had him with us again, even if only for a moment.

~*♥*~

Kalle and I were going to get married.

That was clear from the word go.  Only after our first phone conversation, lasting almost 5 hours , I thought to myself - you're in so deep now girl. This is THE man. This really is it.

He proposed  for the first time to me so soon I don't even remember.

We wanted to give my children time to get to peacefully know him. So after some half a year I told them this was the man I was going to marry some day. BUT  I told them this was up to their schedule entirely. Kalle and I had decades of time, no rush.

Little did I know.

But in any case, it was decided I would only marry him or we would move in with him when the boys felt completely comfortable with him.

I asked them to take their time and think about it, ask any questions that should come to their minds.

First my oldest, Joel, said he wanted to have a private talk with me. He said he felt it was the right thing for us to marry Kalle as he loved us all so much and he was so incredibly kind always - but under one condition - I'd keep the same last name as the boys. I promised him.

Then my little one wanted to have a conversation. He wanted us to live with Kalle first, then the marriage after. I respected his wish - and felt it was very wise for his age. After the boys' blessings, Kalle bought us a home to live in together.

Then my Luca said a thing that resonated so deeply with my heart. 

'Maman, we really should marry Kalle. Nobody has ever loved us as much as he does.'

I love that he used the word 'we' should marry him <3.

After a couple of days, my older, Joel, had clearly thought about it. He put his arms around me and said 'You know Maman, I think nobody in this world is able to love as much as Kalle does.' 

I didn't have the time to tell Kalle these words. He would so have loved to know this. 

Faith didn't give us the time.

So at his funeral, I told these messages of the children to his coffin.

In the end  it doesn't matter all that much whether he got the 'blessings' of my children before or after his death. I think he knows. 

Whatever it is, we belonged to each other.

At least that one thing nobody can take away from me.

At breakfast, my son told me about a discussion he'd had with a new boy in his class. Farook had ended something he'd said with "inshallah".

Luca, casually: "Did you know, there are many people in Finland who don't believe in God?"

Farook: "Really???"

Luca 9 yrs: 'Yes in different countries people believe in different things. I've thought about it and I don't believe in God. My dad doesn't either. But it's okay that you do."

Farook thought about it: "Well yes why not... I guess it's okay".

Let's just leave this planet to our kids. They're ready to make it better.

~*~

Not so long ago I lost my father, my marriage, my job, my ability to survive financially... So many things collapsed that I felt I collapsed  under the weight myself. Additionally, these are the times where a lot of friends and family members take their distance - let's face it, a depressed and desperate person is not so very much fun to hang around.

Slowly (or maybe fast? there was no notion of time in that endlessness) yet surely I fell into deep exhaustion, a tiredness no words can reach. I won't bother you with the details, you can all google depression. But very few google hits tell you how to address depression with your little children.

I realized that especially my oldest son knew something was up. He had no means to understand. But he was serious, all too serious, eyes welled up with unanswered  questions. How do you talk to your child about depression? Every instinct in my head screamed NO! spare him from this, this is my pain not his, he's just too little. But my heart whispered he already knows. And if I didn't talk to him, he'd have to deal  alone.

So, I told my Joel he must have noticed how tired I'd become... How much sleep I needed... And that I wasn't smiling as much as before. Told him all this was all due to an illness called depression, it causes these things. Told him I was treated and helped by doctors and medicine - adults took care of this, he didn't need to worry.

Interrupting me, he asked hastily "Maman are you going to die of it?". Turned out he HAD processed it, all alone, equating my situation with my father's illness that just recently had made my son's beloved grandfather fade away from us. Knowing something was wrong with me, not understanding how serious it could be, he'd wanted to protect me from his questions and concerns. What a weight he had carried on his tender shoulders.

I promised him I would get well again. He knows I never ever promise if I can't keep my word.

I apologized. For not having talked to him earlier, for sleeping too much, for always being exhausted. For everything, really.

And my child with tears in his eyes hugged me tight, saying something so wise, so kind, so compassionate that it rests in my heart forever.

 "Maman I know you always do your very best. Remember, that is enough."

My son, my hero.

Back in the day when I swore to always protect the love of my life. And already now, he protects me right back.

~*~

Beeping message woke me up. "Please tell me the boys are okay".

Ran to my phone, hands shaking, it rang forever no answer no answer no answer. Kalle turns on Al-Jazeera, chaos, carnage, child victims, 84 dead... After an eternity, answer from sleepy ex husband who doesn't know what I'm talking about. Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.

They are in Nice but hadn't gone to watch the parade.

Thank you all dear friends for your messages, this is to let all of you know they are still safely sleeping in their own beds.

Al-Jazeera repeats the image of a little girl in her mother's arms, staring with empty eyes as a man next to them is covered. "The father died" Kalle says silently.

Like my friend Lea wrote, today even the sky cries.

~*~