Tuesday, December 19, 2017

Observation in Dallas airport a few days before Christmas

I am not in a place, not in a country.
I am between places, lands, and borders.
Between here and there, betwixt someplace and home.

I am between time.
For now, I am sitting in Dallas, Texas heading for London, then on to Oslo. At the counter where I bought a cup of tomato soup the lady asked, “And where are you going?”
I answered that I was on my way to Oslo.
“Where’s that?” she continued asking.

I will be traveling forward in time. When we touch down in Oslo I will be seven hours ahead of where I am right now. How neat is that? Real life experience with going into the future.

I will not be as gracious as time travelers in the movies who seem dizzy for a mere second, then shake it off and move into their new sphere. I will be dizzy for days. Going into the future is always more difficult for me that going back and always harder to adjust to.

People around me are wandering, wondering.
Some have a lost puppy look on their faces, their eyes darting between information about gates, eating areas, and bathrooms. My eyes are trying to catch sight of a Starbucks so I can purchase a tall hot chocolate with whipped cream, which I am convinced will bring me a few moments of heaven.

In Wichita Falls, only a few days ago, I went on a tour of Christmas homes with my daughter-in-law. The fashionable houses where literally filled to the brim with festive holiday decorations. From my table here in the airport I look at one of the largest indoor Christmas trees I have seen so far on my trip. And it is more than a decoration. It is an adventure. The bottom of the tree has a tunnel going through, so that people can go inside all the glitter, colors, and bling and have their photos taken. A happiness builder.

I order my longed for hot cocoa.
Sometimes, I want to tell the Starbucks baristas that my name is Carmen, Guinevere, or Louisa, but usually answer my real name when they ask what to write on the cup, although it is often spelled wrong anyway. I sip it carefully. The barista put extra chocolate sauce on the top and it makes me happy.

It’s time to shuffle toward the gate. I pass a woman who sits in a bar in the company of a glass of something on an otherwise empty table. She is staring into space. At the soup and salad kitchen energetic, health concerned computer enthusiasts seem to get a little work done while eating their vegetables.

The sign at my gate says: On time.
Looks like we will fill all the seats on this Sunday evening flight to London. I see folks from all walks of life, speaking languages I cannot understand. Some are wearing beach sandals and shorts, others come prepared with winter boots and large scarves. A grandfather keeps throwing a stuffed teddy bear into the high ceiling as his little granddaughter squeals in delight.
One family of four have matching black and red checkered shirts.

I look out of the large windows where airplanes are lined up towards the typical Texas scarlet sunset over flat fields as far as the eye can see. So different from the short, dark December days I expect in the country I am returning to.
I follow the line of travelers into my airplane, find my seat, and stuff my carry-on bag and jacket in the overhead bin. My small backpack stays at my feet, and as I open the zipper I see the two large Christmas tree ornaments. I had seen them a few days earlier at Hobby Lobby, a gloriously fun store for girls like me, and they seemed to beg me to bring them home.
I lean back in my chair and get ready to watch a few movies before I fall asleep.

Merry Christmas to all travelers this season and always. May you enjoy the holidays, remember the reason we celebrate, and choose the good, small things in life.

Tuesday, May 2, 2017

AKVARELLER SALG UKE 18, 2-7 Mai 2017

                                          Amish - SOLGT




                                                   Morgensol - SOLGT











                                          Lys før stormen





Blomster før stormen

                                                       Eksotisk utsikt - SOLGT

                                          Vinteråker med gjess




                                          Strand Nord-Norge - SOLGT

                                          Sort svane


                                                    Fiskebåt i morgentåke

                                          Picnic på stranden





Alle bildene er copyrighted Heidi Eljarbø Morrell Andersen.

Saturday, March 4, 2017

Memories to keep forever

My father had Alzheimer’s Disease for many years. I watched him slowly losing speech, forgetting everyday things, and finally not knowing who I was.
It has taken me a few years to concentrate on my father and his life before the disease changed him and his outward personality.
Now I am able to remember him as the fun-loving, creative, artistic, loving father he is – the man he really is.
But what happens to a person who has his life altered by such a disease?
We would stand together in the elevator at the nursing home. He would praise me because I knew which button to push to get to his floor. I remember thinking, Oh, pappa, you have so much more knowledge than I have. You can do so much. Why is that knowledge locked away, hindered by a horrible disease?

And had we walked out the door, he would not have known his way around the building without getting lost.
He had a paper in his breast pocket. He told me it was the contract for him and mamma to cut down the timber in the woods behind the nursing home. My mother had passed away several years earlier, and there was no wooded area behind the nursing home, just more buildings. But this he believed.

He loved music. Some of my last memories of him is sitting on his bed in the nursing home, singing to him. He looked like he was asleep, but his foot kept tapping to the rhythm of the music. He heard me and enjoyed the song.

We have learned that the glory of God is intelligence. We are encouraged to learn all that we can and that the knowledge we obtain in this life, will be a part of us in the eternities.

I love to learn. It’s exciting how we can learn many new things every day.
So, I have wondered lately, when I read, watch, experience – and feel like I can’t remember from one day to the next what I learned – will that knowledge still be with me and be a part of me?

I believe the knowledge we obtain will be stored. It is part of our mental harddisk, even if we don’t remember things like what we had for dinner last Tuesday.
It’s actually wrong to call it a harddisk. Our brain is not a computer. We cannot open it to read a book or listen to a symphony there. It’s so much more complex than that.

I also believe that all the wonderful things my dad learned, all the talents he improved, all the people relationships he mastered – these things are stored and are still a part of him.

So, I am picky. What do I want to learn? What knowledge will be important in days to come? Which stories in the chapters of the book of Heidi will I bring with me?

Photo top:
My father had many talents and skills. One was building homes. He did the whole process; made the architectural designs, contractor, carpenter, builder, kitchen cabinet maker, furniture maker, interior design. He even won a price for best garden design.

Photo bottom:
My father did not know me during his last period on earth, but I could tell he enjoyed the visits.