God Morgen Fra Norge

Yes, good morning. While it's afternoon in Norway, it's morning for most of you. What a country! Nature struts her stuff here and the Norwegian government and people cooperate to protect nature. Norwegians love being outdoors. They remind us: "There's no bad weather in Norway, only bad clothes."

So on our second day in Norway, Matt, my son-in-love, took me shopping in Alesund for a rain jacket. It's bright yellow and waterproof. And I love it! (and him) Actually, I look like an ad for Gorton's Fish Company or part of the crew on one of Gloucester's fishing boats. Really, I packed a raincoat but learned that it repels nothing except my son and some Grands who think I resemble Darth Vader, in my hooded black raincoat. Not the look I want.

Well, there's no need for my yellow slicker, at the moment. Currently, it's cloudy, chilly and drizzly, but I'm indoors, while the family hikes. Those Viking genes love to hike, swim, fish and explore. Or bake bread, as Chad did this morning. But today, I write.

We arrived yesterday in Andalsnes, alpine Troll Country. We're in western Norway where fjords and spectacular scenery validate Norwegian calendars and postcards. Actually, spectacular is too limiting. Driving here revealed a series of tunnels, bridges and homes clinging to steep slopes, visual reminders of human adaptability, ingenuity and engineering prowess.

And speaking of engineering marvels, we dined at one last night. While the Grands stayed back at the farm, the five oldest rode the Romsdalsgondolen to ascend to the Eggen restaurant perched atop the Nesaksla Mountain. It overlooks Andalsnes and the Romsdalsfjord. We feasted on breathtaking vistas and delicious food. But best of all, for me, was time with Heather & Matt, Chad & Kristina. Love is hard to quantify but you know when you are loved. And we love each other, but I'm feeling especially loved and cared for on this trip. Eighty-five is a great age to be.

Well, today, according to the UN General Assembly is World Refugee Day. And while my Norwegian grandparents left Norway, fear of persecution wasn't a motive. They left, for the most part, full of hopes and dreams. Fear factored little. Although, I'm sure my fifteen year old grandmother felt some fear as she sailed alone from Norway to New York. Today, fear looms large for many within and outside the USA.

However, I resist dwelling on darkness, today. Although my prayers continue for what's wrong in our country and in this world. So, I'm focusing, instead, on what's good in this day, these moments that pass too quickly. And, while there's no television in this amazing farmhouse Heather found for us, there's internet service. So my grandson, Bazy, informed me that the Pacers tied it up and we're headed for game seven. Go Pacers!

Oh, before I forget, which at eighty-five is frequent, here's some trivia. Last Friday, TSA stopped me at Logan's security checkpoint. The agent asked, "Are you over 75?" I almost hugged him for doubting. Then replied, "Yes, I'm 85." Wow! After taking a hard look, he still needed to ask? I wondered if I'd get a medal or something for being over 75? Nope. He barked, " It's ok to keep your shoes on."

Well, since arriving in Norway, I "tink" often about removing my shoes. And it's not because of rain or some legality. It's from a deep sense of awe and love. Norway and time together feels like we're standing on holy ground.

And, I believe, that's where we often stand.

Unaware.

So, shoes on or off?

Holy perspective.