Light shivering grass Loss flyby goose Lingering winds brass Lonely shadows loose Swirl away class Wind lead choose
Like the feather this poem does not really know where it’s going. Ha de Gött!
Whiskey, beer and gin that can't really be a sin sink down some pints of ale mouth becomes full of tale even Jesus had some wine true, several tellers intertwine all needs to taken with moderation else drive the toilet seat, no hesitation credit card in the bar sail astray more stories to tell at the hallway last night to this was tempted now, gut wrong way needs to be emptied in a bucket full of sorrow wish there be no tomorrow
Please drink responsibly, ha de Gött!
Introduce yourself, that short, get to know.
Introduction to start of a training course or workshop.
Meet up with people you don’t know before.
Your name, company, your job and for how long.
Extracurricular activities and interest, not a problem.
But then.
Wife and two children, oldest 23 and one year left at university.
Studying to become high school teacher in Swedish and history.
Still quite easy, what next.
Youngest son should have been 21, but last year passed away.
Make everyone feel uncomfortable, but…
He’s still my son forever in my heart.
Never mention him, as if he never existed?
Pretend he’s still alive and at his second year at university.
But he will never be a computer science engineer.
His ash is in an urn.
Grief throws many punches in everyday life. Specially in situations you don’t expect. This needed to come out.
Sneaks up like a bully sudden slap in the neck think you are okay safe on the other side wet heavy woolen blanket gasping for air a way out ice pulling feet away band aid time stop the pain
I took this picture trying to capture the very special light. Is this picture hopeful or frightening?
Sunlight piercing through the dark clouds. Blue skies shows like hope. A house stands firmly on the rock. Shelter against the howling wind. Beams of hopeful light shines on the boats safe on land. Shines in the glittering water, like a child laughter. Bright crest on the clouds like bird wings.
Thickening clouds cover the sun. Blue skies turn darker and darker. Shadows eating the light. The structure on the rocks turns to a scary fortress. Birds fly nervously to take shelter. Water shivers in the cold wind. Clouds turns into deeper gray like a cold November day.
Two ways of describing the same picture. Which one fits you today?
Today it was announced that the Small Bluebell (Campanula rotundifolia) was appointed to the floral emblem of Sweden. It has always been my favorite flower so I’m very pleased. It is also called Harebell or Bluebell of Scotland. Hope they don’t feel that we stole it from them. It blooms July to September. Twenty three years ago when I got married to my lovely (she reads the blog) wife, the entire church was decorated with Bluebells.
The picture was taken by me last summer on Killingen island. My son, who passed away seven months ago today, though I was going a bit to nerdy. He took the picture of me that you see below. Also I share a picture of the related Large Bluebell.
Hope you like, subscribe, comment and have nice weekend. Ha de Gött!
2020. I think many of us can agree that this was a shitty year. For me Corona was “only” a good beer from Mexico before. Covid-19 is accurate name of this little bastard turning our lifes upside down. This has not been the biggest thing impacting my life.
My youngest son died in August only twenty years old. His death was not entirely unexpected suffering for many years with mental ilness. At the age of eighteen he was diagnosed with Aspergers syndrome. A type of autism. He was also on the wait list to see if he also suffered a Bipolar disorder. I will not go in to deep here as I don’t have the strenght yet.
I have always taken lots of pictures, mainly with my mobilephone. I also like to tell stories. I used to read to my two sons in the evenings. When we didn’t have anything to read I just made up the stories with their input. A book is lingering in my messy brain waiting to be written so to practise my writing my son suggested me to start a blog. Here I could also share some of my pictures.
This has been a lifeline after my sons passing. With this post I’d like to thank everybody that follows my blog, clicks the like button, signing up to subscribe and comments. You have really helped me stay sane during this fall. THANK YOU!
I know greif will never pass and the pain will always be there but you learn to live with it. I hope 2021 will be a great year for all of us and that Corona will just be a beer again. So cheers and Gott Nytt År!
By Ulf Kalkyl
I knew I wanted to make a speech at my brothers funeral. Much for my own sake, but also for my brother. It has been an impossible task to find the right words. I want to tell you everything, without having to say anything. It is hard to find a way forward in my own sorrow and loss. I want to say farewell without saying, god bye.
The strangest things catch your attention when you mourn. I got stuck in the grammar of sorrow. When someone passes away many tenses can no longer be used. Most obvious is tense for now, present tense. My brother will never again play his grand piano, code on his computer or drive his boat. We are left with past tense, preteritum. My brother was a fantastic musician, he could dance, he welded this and that.
When a young person passes away, tense of the forthcoming is used more, future tense. More accurately we use futurum preterit and futurum preterit exaktum. These two describes a possible future that never came to be. My brother would be an engineer, he would be a cantor, he would live many more years.
But I refuse to give in to the grammar of sorrow. You can speak of my brother in present tense. He is and remains my brother. Nothing in the whole world can break that bond. My brother is important and irreplaceable to me. I have only one brother, the finest brother a sibling can have. I am infinitely proud to call you my brother.
I’m proud over how he manged to graduate High School, get his drivers licence and get accepted in his dreams University, Chalmers. I’m proud over how he excelled in everything he did. From coding a compiler to replacing a catalyst converter. I’m proud in how he managed to excel me in most things.
My brother was never much for the meaningless. Grammar definitely falls into that category. But there is no point in drowning in “What if’s”. When I look ahead it is with all my brother is, and was that I carry with me. I carry with me what a fantastic, multifaceted, Renaissance man my brother was. I carry with me all his music, his puns and moments we spent together as brothers. I carry all the memories.
My brother, you are for ever my baby brother and I am forever you big brother. I love you, I miss you.
Ulf Kalkyl is a pseudonym of my oldest son. He held this speech at my youngest sons funeral. Ulf Kalkyl studies at University of Göteborg to become a High School teacher in Swedish and History.
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