I was born
in Denmark and my parents left when I was 1 and half or 2. I’d been here for
Christmas when I was 6 and then for a christening when I was 18. That’s it.
That doesn’t add up to a whole lot of time. Since my Mum passed I don’t really
speak Danish to anyone, the lingo is very rusty indeed. So rusty was it that
when I met Christian this summer, I insisted that we should speak English! Now
however, I would be so bold as to actually have a conversation in my mother
tongue. It’s cool really how from the depths of my little peanut brain came
this language that I thought had long left. I’ve chatted away quite happily to
folk during my Danish dash, some times less eloquently than I perhaps would
like but it’s made me happy! So I’ve decided that I should come back really
soon and travel around a bit. I’d like to explore the country I’ve seen
whizzing by outside my train window today.
The reason
for my being here of course is that my Dad is here receiving treatment for his
bowel cancer. The C word. That horrible C word that will affect 1 in 3 of us.
If I should become that 1 in 3 then I hope that I will be able to fight it like
my Dad has. So far he’s had 4 chemo sessions and it looks like that might be
the worst of it over and done with. For a cancer patient he looks amazing, the
hair loss was hardly an issue as he basically only had a handful of hairs on
his head anyway! He’s looked after himself so well over the last few years and
I think that has given him a real boost in dealing with this sickness. He’s not
lost weight or his appetite which is great. His nurses all loved him and the
last time he had chemo they all came in to say goodbye and to thank him for
being such a great patient and that he’d been a breath of fresh air for them.
That’s my pops, always making friends along the way. One of his nurses came in
one day and asked him to please tell her his life story. She took time out from
her busy day to sit and chat and listen, I love that. He’s done amazingly well
and I know he’s not out of the woods yet, still a way to go and who knows what
will happen in the future, but for the moment I feel so insanely happy that he
is doing well and it certainly looks like he is on the way to recovery.
Those of
you that know me will know that I think organised religion is a bunch of
baloney. I am a ‘spiritual’ person though, for want of a better word. Glaucia
received an email from a friend, one of those chain type emails that you’re
supposed to forward on and you’ll be blessed somehow, you know the ones. Well I
must admit the ones people send me usually end up in the trash cos I kinda
think that if some God is going to bless me, it probably won’t be via email!
This email said some Angels would visit us, can’t
remember all their names but I know Gabriel was among them and Metatron (which
is the cool cos it’s like a Transformers name!!). Anyway,
this morning as I got in the taxi and drove away from Dad’s, a song came on the
radio; it was ‘I Have a Dream' by ABBA, the chorus starts: I Believe in Angels. No, I'm not converted or anything of the sort, I just thought
it was kinda funny/odd/relevant and I must admit it did make me slightly emotional.
Sometimes things like that happen, don’t they?
Right then, I'm going to sit back and relax now. Next stop, Kastrup airport then Geneva airport and then the Alps. Mountains here I come!
Things I saw in DK:
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| A fox. Or rather what a fox used to wear. In the window of a charity shop. Did you know Denmark's number one export to China is fur? Bet you didn't. Not something that I personally would be proud of. |
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| A place to leave your dog outside the supermarket. Love it. |
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| Kanelsnegle. Authentic Danish pastry. Perfect with a cup of tea after a bracing walk in the harbour wearing your Sarah Lund sweater. |
