Friday 27 October 2000

Pic of the day: The heroes are tired - then again, it's midnight.

"Vacation"

I'm losing count on how many times I've deleted this entry and tried again. I don't want to write a very sad diary, because I am not very sad. I think the right nuance just now is "serious", bordering on "solemn". But not sad or depressed. Remember, I have had decades to prepare, to get used to the fact that my mother was suffering from malign melanoma, a slow but nearly unstoppable cancer. It's more of a miracle that she's survived again and again. For all I know, she may do so again. Though if she survives without her humanity, without the precious gift of reason and refined emotion, without knowing her loved ones who she dedicated her life to ... I hope not.

I hate it when I don't know if someone's soul is gone or still in there. It is morbid and reminds me of zombies and that kind of stuff. I know my mother fears that too. She has lived a life of triumph; wish that it can end on that note too, be it now or later.

Again, sorry to seem so cold and cruel; but 25 years is a long time to die. Sooner or later it starts to seep in. Or it could be just the midlife crisis. Well, better a midlife crisis than an endlife crisis. I hope I can bear the rest of my life with such dignity as my parents have done so far, though I don't believe it in the least. I expect to die screaming and begging, as is good and proper for a coward such as I.

***

On a considerably lighter note, I've finally been forced to take a vacation. It's not something I usually do. Eventually I spend them in the last part of the year instead of sick leaves, and a few days with the Super family around Christmas. I don't know when last I was at the west coast of Norway. I know that my "little" sis-in-law was living there, but I don't remember if she and my brother was married or just planning to. I'm pretty sure there were no children, and the oldest is like five now. It's bound to be a bit more than that.

The train leaves from Kristiansand 07:28. Since it is Saturday, no bus goes that early, so I shall have to call for a taxi. Ironically, the train is eastbound, and pretty far too: In Drammen, I am to change trains to the north-west a bit before noon. At Gol, I am to wait a few hours for a bus across the mountains to Førde, where my oldest brother will pick me up around midnight.

My old home province is rather isolated at the best of times, and Saturdays are not the best of times. On a weekday, I could have taken the night train and the fast foilcat from Bergen. But not on a Saturday. I don't like long travels by bus. In fact, I don't like travels by bus at all. It's just a big car, which is hardly the safest way to travel. And far less comfortable than train. To top it all, we shall pass almost all of the scenic route after nightfall.

I'm still packing my digital camera. And my laptop. I intend to report in detail, now that something actually happens. Even if it is something I would prefer not to happen.