What's normal?

It takes a while to get used to being in Sweden again after two weeks in little England.  As I wrote yesterday, I've come to think of it as "little" England.  It is little.  Tiny in comparison with the USA and Sweden.  Yet ironically that small island is known as Great Britain.  I wonder if the colonial impulse stemmed from a deep-seated inferiority complex?  All England's former foes, such as Spain and France, and most colonial conquests such as India have been much larger countries in terms of their landmass.

Here I sit, on the edge of a much larger landmass, Sweden.  It was dark this morning when Monty woke me at 7 a.m.  I have to get used to getting up much earlier than that starting next Monday.  I'll be leaving here at 7 a.m., in the dark...

And coming home at 4 or 5 p.m., in the dark...

Well, what did I expect? I set out on this adventure to find out if I could hack it.  Could I survive and maybe even thrive in, a Swedish winter?

 

The legendary Swedish winter.  My mother grew up here but has lived in England since 1959 and during my childhood would sometimes refer to how very long and more than anything how very dark Swedish winters were.  They were something long ago and far away, not normal anymore.

Living here is becoming normal for me.  As I sit at my kitchen table with my laptop open looking out I see patches of snow brightening up the landscape. 

So far snow here seems like a blessing, bringing much longed-for light.  In England snow is more of a curse that brings everything to a standstill.  But that in itself could be a blessing too.  Buses that didn't run meant days off work, forced to snuggle up at home and read in front of the fire.

So far, life here goes on as normal when there is snow.  You get up and you go to work, you just put on a few extra layers, and when you come home you snuggle up in front of the fire.

In California a rain day is like a snow day in England.  Half the children don't come to school.  People try to stay off the roads.  It's all relative. 

It's about what's normal.  We can cope with what is normal for us.  When something unexpected and abnormal happens we struggle, how to deal with this white stuff on the ground?  this wet stuff falling from the otherwise clear, blue sky?  That's not normal.

Today is my mother's 86th birthday: "Happy Birthday Mum!"

Getting old is not easy for most people.  They struggle with establishing a new normal when they can no longer get around as easily as they did before, when they can no longer do as much as they did and when they have to live with illness and pain.

Remember what it was like raising babies?  There's no normal for them.  No sooner are they in a nice routine than they change, they are on to the next stage.  Everything is normal for them, a healthy baby takes all these changes in stride.

Why is it so hard for us to reverse this process and accept the changes age brings?  We have lived our life and there is much to be thankful for.  Every day brings a new normal.