Saturday 16 June 2007

Pic of the day: The person you marry is also important. Unfortunately I don't know her either. In fact, I know Konata from Lucky Star (the girl saying these words of wisdom) better than her. I am not convinced this is a good thing, but it is the result of both our choices.

Generation gap

My nephew called a couple days ago. OK, one of my innumerable nephews, but the first of them, and arguably one of those I know best. Unfortunately this does not say much. Actually it says very little, and this is my text for today.

While my brothers have all settled in the same area where I grew up - one on the very farm where we were born, one within easy biking distance and one in a neighboring municipality - I was the only one to move away. Pretty far away, to a different part of Norway. With a few breaks, I have lived on the south coast since I moved out from home at age 15. That is not a spelling error, folks. Fifteen years old. That would be 33 years ago, in a few weeks. I was also quite immature for my years. But for now, just keep those numbers in mind.

I did in fact attend my brother's wedding, the father of this particular nephew. It was quite a touching event. I think he was 24 at the time? And he is 5 years older than me, so it is still a while ago. It took some time before they had kids, I forget how long but probably a couple years. Even so, my nephew has been of age for a while now.

I have visited my brother a few times. I also met him at Brunstad, the conference center for the Christian Church which we both attended at the time. I believe my brother and my nephew too are members there still. But the Church have changed quite a bit since then, and so have I, and not completely in the same direction. (Though probably more so than either of us would want to admit.) In any case, it was perhaps once a year or so. And those years are a long time ago. My nephew was just a boy at the time. A rather small boy, still very much a product of the upbringing his parents had given him. Not that this is a bad thing. I have every reason to think they were - and are - awesome parents. I never saw anything less, at least. In particular I remember my nephew coming to his father and complaining that he hurt at some body part; his father replied: "I can't feel anything" in a surprised tone. This amused me greatly at the time.

Anyway, this is all long ago. My nephew called me because he was going to be married really soon now. He had sent me an invitation, he said, but had not been aware that I had moved. Well, I did move, a year and some months ago, but that is beside the point. The point is that I don't know the man. I am sure that if I had, I would have been proud to be a fairly close relative. I have never heard anything to the contrary. But the fact remains that I don't know him. Nor does he know me, unless he reads my journal. He is certainly welcome to that. But that won't make ME know HIM. I knew the boy, a little, long ago. But now... I would probably not have recognized him if I met him in the street. And even if I did, I would not know what kind of man he had become.

The next brother, the one who runs the farm where we grew up (or he did run it last I heard, which was at Christmas, I think) also has two boys, and a girl. I know them even less. I did promise to visit at the confirmation (a quasi-religious coming of age ritual) of the oldest. It was a rather thoughtless promise, I admit. I think he is not quite that old yet. I could find it out, I guess. It is certainly not far off though. In any case, I don't know them either. The next generation of Itlands seem to be a very good crop, but I know my Sims a lot better than I know my relatives. And I am not sure whether this is a good thing or a bad thing. Probably not. It just ... is. Wherever you go, there you are.

Seven years ago to the day, I mocked the idea that you can choose not to make sacrifices. How many times have I written it in these pages? "All things have a price." I don't live far away from my relatives to spite them. It is just a natural consequence of the life I have chosen. I like to think that if we had lived closer, we would be friends. But we don't live closer. I do have something similar to friends online, though very few and scattered across the world. I am not an easy person to befriend, I think; not because I am hostile: I am not. I am a very friendly person, more understanding and tolerant than most. But I am by nature a disturbing person, because I don't take the same things for given that others do. I guess this is just another case of that.