On the island

Almost time to go...

900 kilometers, the distance traveled every summer until I was 10. Five of us in the car, all the kids grown up now.

When we were younger, before my sister was born 16 years ago, my brother and I used to sleep in the back seat while our parents drove all night.

Lying there we'd squint our eyes and turn our heads from side to side making the street lights look funny when we passed Trondheim in the dark, knowing we were half-way there.

That little island always meant
summer. It's a home away from home,
a little piece of paradise. At least for me.


Happy times...

My Youngest Uncle

My uncle died today.
My mum's youngest brother. The youngest of the ten.

We haven't seen him for years, he wasn't there last time we were up north. And we haven't been up much lately.

It was as unexpected as can be. He hadn't been sick, he just... died.


My parents have canceled their trip to Spain, my brother is coming home. We're going up north for the funeral but we won't know a date until after the autopsy.


I guess it's true what they say... You gotta make the most out of life while you still have it. You never know when it'll be too late.

And I've already learnt it's better to regret what you've done than what you haven't. At least that way you know you've done what you can. And if your thoughts, dreams and fantasies remain just that... at least you know you tried.

I guess death teaches you that... you gotta do what you can, while you still can.