One Year

things don’t recur precisely, on the sacred earth: they rhyme

Les Murray, ‘The Idyll Wheel’

There was snow today, but not as much as last year. It was cold, but not as cold. The sky that filled the bare trees was pink as the sun rose and orange as it set.

This day last year, I baked brownies, I waited, I walked through the snow, I visited friends, I waited, I went to bed. I would not have long to wait.

Today, I baked an orange and blueberry cake, I made a lentil shepherds pie to eat for dinner today and tomorrow, for I return to work tomorrow, I knitted, I finished writing a paper, I walked through the snow, a friend visited me, I tucked my very nearly one year old son into bed.

Returning to Norway this past week has felt like the right thing to do. It has been strange, overlaying last year with this year. Being suddenly back here, at just this time, I feel the memories in my body. My body feels narrow and strong, because last year it was stretched and heavy. Small things bring moments back – walking along the cobbled main street, bending over to blow-dry my hair (something only a Norwegian winter can induce me to do), the warm, woody smell of our bedroom.

Things do not recur precisely. But a world with a Felix in it is a better world indeed.

4 thoughts on “One Year

  1. Happy happy birthday, Felix! And Happy Birth Day to you, dear friend! I’m so happy to know that you’re settling in back at home, and savoring your last “unemployed” day … what do they call it there – being on leave? I bet there’s a nice word for it. Anyway, we’ve enjoyed all your most recent pictures – M and me. And oh, we miss you! Could you send me your mailing address? A late birthday gift is better than none 🙂 xoxo

  2. Indeed it is! What a precious gift and treasure he is.
    And your words bring back many memories for me too, of the special (but increasingly long) time of waiting impatiently for him to arrive, surrounded by snow and ice and hard bright sunshine, and learning that one can live in such climes. And then the waiting and wondering while you laboured, in the so cold, grey day, followed by the relief and joy and excitement that he was safely here and you were ok. And then again the trekking through snow and ice on daily journeys to the frozen but fairytale Frederikstad, until you 3 were warmly esconced a few days later in your own cosy home, and life had changed for ever.

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