24 April 2013
It was another day with one storm right after the other –
only this time, instead of rain, it was hail pelting the earth (see it piled up on our window sill!). The temperature dropped and we were all glad
we had a warm place to call our own. I
felt badly for people who had to be outside today, as we all pretty much stayed
indoors and felt thankful. I hated
seeing the weather report for Seattle though – knowing we were missing out on
such a lovely spring day. I just have to
be happy with what I have. (Other photos today were taken two days ago - showing that spring really is here, too.)
Kory started working on a bench he’s making for Turid’s art
studio, but ran into one problem after another with tools he had to borrow from
different people. He ran out of patience
by the end of the day and was frustrated he didn’t get a thing accomplished.
I felt the same way, as I was spinning my wheels on several
things I put my energies to, and the day just slipped away. At least Kaleb got some schoolwork done. I had him go over to Philadelphia Church so
he could practice a bit of piano today, before he forgets all he’s learned up
to this point.
I visited with the church secretary, Liv, while he was
playing. She told me a great story about
how she got a random email from a woman in Los Angeles, trying to find
relatives of her grandfather, who came to America as a child. Liv was able to help her find all kinds of
information, as well as find living relatives here. She cried as she was telling the story, as it
was such a powerful experience for them all.
As it turned out, a woman named Aslaug had three children,
all with different men. She never
married. She left Norway in 1910 with
her oldest child, leaving her two youngest ones behind with their respective
fathers. Her daughter was two years old
and she had just given birth to a son.
That son, “Arvid”, grew up, had a family of his own, and died in 1997,
but always knew his mother had left him and he had an older brother in America. He had no contact with his mother or brother
his entire life. So Liv found a living
son of Arvid who is now 70 years old.
She called him and told him the granddaughter to his uncle was looking
for family in Norway. The next morning he
showed up at church, tears in his eyes and said he was unable to sleep the
night before. He told how Arvid had a
lifetime of grief over his mother leaving him behind. It was a wound that never healed, as he had always
wanted to find her and his brother. Liv
hooked the man up on Skype with the young woman in L.A. and they had one joyful
reunion.
I think that story is very typical of many Norwegian immigrants
to America. They just left their tragic
lives behind and didn’t look back. One
local history book for Iowa, where Aslaug settled, said that “she had been
married several times in Norway, but all her husbands died,” (which wasn’t true
because the birth records of all her kids show they were illegitimate and she
was never married), and that “she was a strong woman who could speak no
English.” Liv and I had a good laugh
over that one, as we felt there was a reason she chose to never speak English -
she didn’t want to talk about her life.
Years ago, it was thought, when someone moved to America, it
was as if they went to the grave, because many of them never made contact with
family in Norway again. To think the
agony of that kind of desertion carries on to the next generation is just
heartbreaking. There are many wounded
people in Norway from this type of family split because here, family is
everything. I’m sure that’s why, when
Americans come over looking for their Norwegian roots, they are warmly welcomed
by even the most distant of relatives.
I’m sure glad there was some happiness in that story because
later tonight I was invited to go to Agape Church where they showed a movie
about Human Trafficking, and there was no happiness in that one at all. The church is trying to bring awareness to
this horrific issue going on around the world, and it was hard to believe I was
sitting in a church watching such a graphic film. They served popcorn, but what they really
needed were barf bags. It made me
sick. I was shaking violently throughout
the whole film and felt absolutely spent by the end of it. No one said a word when the movie was over,
and there were dozens and dozens of people there. I have never felt so impacted by any film
I’ve ever seen. Many left during the movie,
it was just too disturbing, but it was all based on reality, so it’s hard to
turn a blind eye to the enslavement of women and children into a life of
prostitution. Sick, sick, sick.
I had to come home and hug Kaleb and be thankful he’s lived
such a blessed life. We all have, for
that matter.
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