We are back at Moi, my husband´s birthplace, to say goodbye to his childhood home for a last time. My mother in law died 10 years ago. My father in law continued to live in the house he had built with his own hands about 60 years ago until last summer. Then he moved into a care home, and we started the task of emptying the house. In December my father in law died, 91 years old (he would have been 92 in two days today), and our laborious work continued.
The work is finished now, and this weekend Terje and I are down here with a huge, rented car, to bring home all the stuff we want to keep in the family.
I have been walking around with my camera, saying good bye to the house, to my parents in law, to almost 40 years of my life, my own way.
Behind this wall my father in law had his carpentry workshop. So many millions of hours of labour of love have been spent there.
Handwritten notes still hanging in the porch wall. My father in law´s handwriting. Notes ready to be glued on the door when he went out in the garden or down in his basement workshop to work. "In the garden" "I am in the basement"
The vegetable garden. Last summer father in law grew pumkins here and made dozens of kilos of pumpkin marmelade and pickled pumpkins.
The old apple tree.
One year, when our boys were about 10, they flew down to their grandparents alone and spent a week with them. I let them bring my camera, looking forward to see what photos they would take, and laughed after the film was developed. The boys played hide and seek in the garden, took photos of each other when they hid and wanted me to seek for then in the photos :-) Many of the photos showed this tree, sometimes I saw one of the boys in there, some times not.
Oh, such wonderful memories.
The top window is the window to the bedroom which has been mine ever since I came here at Easter 1979, deeply in love with the oldest son of the house.
The love is just as deep, even deeper today. And my heart is filled with memories.