Post Scriptum

Coffee at the airport

Oslo to Newark

in an aluminum tube at 30,000 ft at 500 mph

but first by way of a 2 hour refueling stop in Bangor, Maine

because of 150 mph headwinds

from a snowstorm on the East Coast

then a chance to make it because of a delayed flight to Denver

running through customs

then again through security

from one end of the building to the other, to Gate 103

running on adrenaline after 14 hours of travel

Newark to Denver

3 1/2 hours of smooth travel to Denver, but very late

missed my flight home for sure or so I thought

arrived at 10:30 p.m.

my delayed flight to Salt Lake City still at Gate 50

because of mechanical problems (the cabin door wouldn't seal)

it was still being repaired at 11:30 p.m.

then good news over the intercom

"We are boarding the flight to Denver."

Denver to Salt Lake City

Into the air at midnight.

Clear, smooth, silky black skies.

1:30 a.m. we glide down to Salt Lake City

an emerald of light in the darkness

I ask through the cabin, "Is anyone going to Park City."

One courageous soul responds, "I am."

"May I have a ride?"  "Yes."

He dropped me off in front of my door at 2:03 a.m.

Clear sky. Calm. 30 degrees Fahrenheit.

The kindness of strangers is the binding force of life.

Home.

+

Thanksgiving Day 17 years ago Emma was born to us.

I'll make it to the party at 10 a.m.  I am very glad.

Happy Thanksgiving to you, wherever you are, with whomever you celebrate this day.

A Final Note

A winter storm awaits me, probably, on my arrival to the USA.  As with all travel, there is always the unexpected. Oh well. Its out of my control. I will weather the weather, hoping for the best, prepared for the worst.  I'll see you (or not) on Thanksgiving Day.

J

Home

Anne's home in the frame in this frame.

Today, Tuesday, my last day in Norway, in Oslo and on the continent.  We walked from Anne's flat to the Holmenkollen, the "island hill", the ski jump. It was a beautiful day. The first sunny day in Norway. Maybe 45 degrees, no wind. We walked up to the Olympic jump, went all the way to the top and there had a stunning panorama of Oslo, its islands, the forests all around. Then we took the tram to downtown Oslo to the World War II Resistance Museum. They only had 15 minutes left until they closed, so we got in free. Resistance was difficult then and now. Widerstand is the name in German. So important to know what to resist and to what to submit. Then we walked in the dimming light to a wonderful restaurant on the water for a final dinner and conversation.  A bottle of great Portuguese wine, pasta, dessert, wonderful ambience, good table waiting. Our waitperson was a 21 year old man from Cuba who spoke perfect Norwegian, English and of course Spanish. A last supper I suppose. We took public transport home.

The Oslo Harbor Fortress in a reflecting pool

Home, its where they have to let you in.  Or maybe its where you someday want to return. Or maybe its a place you have constructed for shelter: emotional and physical. Home.

Emma's birthday is on Thursday, Thanksgiving. I hope to make it back for that. I am grateful for all who made this trip possible: my parents, my European friends Gustav and Petra in Germany and Anne in Norway, my American friends, John Fry, Jeff Beebe and Lyndon Nygaard who got me to the airports, my 2nd cousins in the Twin Cities, Linda and Carol and finally my daughter who said, "Go Daddy."

Peace to all who have joined me in this journey by reading this blog.

Jeffrey Louden

The Holmenkollen Ski Jump in Oslo

At the skiing museum a chance to be the explorer

A selfie at the Holmenkollen

Grey sky, 2 degrees and a light rain, Sunday still

I suppose that knowing someone from another culture, knowing someone for many years who has a different starting point, gives one a window into a different life.  Maybe. The window isn't large and isn't always open.  Its a window, not a door. To be a door it takes years and oftentimes learning a language, a culture, a history. Still a window is enough. The window not only lets light in, but lets light shine out. It lets one peer in to get a glimpse of how life is somewhere else.  This is one of the gifts of travel and of relationships between continents. There are many ways to be human.

Sunday Anne left for church and I stayed behind to write and just be. A half hour before worship I put on my jacket, locked her door, then began to walk down to her congregation, Voksen sogn, Voksen Parish, in a light drizzle.  The church bells rang, signaling many things: the beginning of worship, the role of religion, the call to community, the relationship here of church and state, perhaps simply a beautiful tone. The liturgy was instantly recognizable.  The place was packed.  Three baptisms that day.  Great music with piano and trumpet.  Proud parents in traditional Norwegian clothing (Bunad) Then she gave her sermon on Christ the King Sunday, the end of the church year, with the text of Matthew 25, "you did it to me when you did it to the least of these."

Anne is beloved in her parish. And she in turn loves them. Multiple people told me in very good English how much they liked and loved her as their pastor. Good.

After cookies and coffee and conversation we drove home, up the hill for a nap, then to watch a Swedish film, "Sa Som i Himmelen" (as it is in heaven) about a famous conductor and his small town, to which he returns after a heart attack, to recover, then to come to terms with his childhood and his life by teaching a small church choir how to sing, how to gain their voice.  We both cried.

Afterwards we shared a dinner of white fish, vegetables, aquavit, wheat beer.  A full good day.

Two days left.  I can already feel the "turn" to home.  Its only fitting that if the flights work, I come home on the eve before Thanksgiving, the day of my daughter's birth 17 years ago.

The baptism at the Voksen church

Sunday Morning in the dark

Sunday Morning. A light snow falls. Its dark and early. I'm up, alone. Daylight is only about 8 hours long here at 60 degrees North. The tilt of the earth's axis is well, real. Sunday. Anne will lead worship and preach at her parish, the Voksen Church, this morning. She'll go early and then later I will walk to church from her flat, about 30 minutes, all downhill. 11:00 a.m. Lutheran worship in Norwegian.

Yesterday we walked the Vigeland Park, a famous place with large statues depicting the stages of life. These granite figures made by Gustav Vigeland for a world fair seem almost alive. Their granite carries the tensions of life, its joys and sorrows, its beginning and end.

We looked at Anne's old albums from our first year at seminary in 1978! and then the various times we have met over the years, Albuquerque, Leoti, Glenwood Springs, Park City. We are no longer skinny young friends. Life has enriched and scarred us both, full good lives for both of us. Its fair to say that we are deeply grateful.

J

At the park on Saturday

Near Glenwood Springs, CO 1987

60 Years of Life + November 19

Anne and her mom Ellen in Drammen

My life has been rich by any measure. My parents provided for all six of us siblings. I grew up in the American west, had the opportunity to live for two years overseas, worked a job where my job was helping people ask questions about life and meaning and purpose, was blessed with a daughter, have had the privilege to travel, and now I am here.

Today Anne has taken me to her parents' home in Drammen on this my birthday. Born in Denver, I now find myself in this small Norwegian harbor town.  I asked Anne if we could do this. I was here 30 years ago to visit her, experienced hospitality from her parents then and again today. Arne and Ellen have prepared a midday meal for us, a typical Norwegian spread of meats, cheeses, breads, fish paste, coffee, tea.  I try it all except for the goat cheese.

The set table

After our meal and time with the Pettersens, we leave for the city center of Drammen, to meet one of Anne's friends. While we wait to meet her, Anne shows me the city's center, including this piece of art near the new city library, a sphere which reflects back, in distorted but beautiful fashion, a bit of who we are.

Reflection

Darkness descends early at this latitude and we head back to Oslo, 30 minutes away for a simple birthday dinner, just the way I like it, simple.  Anne is a happy woman, perhaps the happiest woman I have known and that in itself was reason enough to come visit.  Of course that is not the only reason. Her birthday, too, was 12 days earlier. She is also 60 and like Emma, a single child.

Happy Birthday(s)

So the journey does continue. Its all gift. Who knows what the future holds? Its hard enough to discern what the past holds and hides. 

German Life

"A life without celebration is a long journey without respite."

Gustav, Hilda, Hans and Petra

Sunday +  We left our hotel to drive home to Germany, but not before we hiked one last time in the Dolomites, near Brixen, to a high plain about 1800 meters high.  Snow lay on the ground from the night before, but only a little bit. The sun never quite broke through, but still, it was good enough for  a hike and a final glimpse of the Tirolean mountain splendor.  Then the journey back to Germany and specifically to Petra's parents, Hilda and Hans.  It was Han's 79 birthday, so we joined her parents for Vespern, i.e. a light evening meal of bread, beer, cheese, sandwich meats and a final toast with a liquor.  Honestly this was a highlight for me.  I tire of restaurants and "eating out." So it was so good to share a simple meal around a family event.  Happy Birthday Hans!  Now we are at Petra's in Schwarzach for a relaxed day of walking and talking in the forest, washing clothes, getting ready for re-entry into life in Regensburg tomorrow morning,  and my flight to Oslo!

J

"Vespern" for Hans' 79th Birthday

Innsbruck on the way back

The view into the Dolomites with the Etscher Valley

which flows all the way to Verona Italy