The World Wide Cemetery

Varderingar min mamma larde mig

Sen mamma dog, har jag tankt en del pa lektionerna jag larde mig av henne under alla ar och insett att det skedde inte genom ord, for hon forelaste inte for oss, utan istallet delade hon sina varderingar genom handlingar. Det var manga, men jag tror dom har 4 har betytt mest for mitt liv.

1. Sluta aldrig att lara och studera: Mamma har alltid studerat, sa lange jag kan minnas. Nar vi var sma tog hon kurser I Latin – for nojes skull – och tyckte det var roligt att papeka latinets rotter i alla ord vi sa runt matbordet. Det var inte alltid uppskattat av oss, men intresset for att lara fastnade anda. Efter latinet blev det Italienska, och sedan kinesiska och ryska. Forra aret t.o.m. sokte hon och kom in pa universitetet I en kurs I rysk grammatik. Hon tyckte dock att hon for mycket annat att gora och sa att hon skulle skjuta upp det “till jag pensionerar mig.” Det var inte bara sprak mamma laste utan hon tog aven kurser I bilmekanik, navigering och andra amnen som erbjods och intresserade henne. Hon tog ett aktivt intresse I allt och holl sig skarp till slutet. Nar hon lag pa sjukhemmet sa var det Svenska Dagbladets “9an” som hon sag fram emot varje dag och for det mesta sa slog hon bade mig och Eva.

2. Vikten av att jobba hart och utova sjalvdisciplin: Vare sig det det gallde att trana (vilket hon gjorde pa gymmet ett par ganger i veckan) eller jobba (pa hotellet eller med oversattningar), sa gav mamma alltid uppgiften allt hon hade. Hon satt med oversattningar langt in pa natten for att fa fram de ratta nyanserna och ville att jobbet skulle bli perfekt. Under sina sista manader, overraskade och imponerade hon personalen pa Stockholms sjukhem for att hon inte gav upp, utan gjorde allt hon kunde for att vara stark. Hon t.o.m. anvande handtaget over sjukhussangen for att dra sig upp och gymnastisera for att starka armmusklerna bara ett par veckor innan hon dog, fast hon var sa mager och svag.

3. Vikten av mod och mental styrka: Mamma tyckte om nya utmaningar och att ge sig ut i nya situationer, prova nya aktiviteter, och lara kanna nya manniskor och kulturer. Detta var sant var hon an bodde i varlden och hela livet, anda till slutet. Hon kampade mot sin cancer for att fa sa bra livskvalitet som mojligt och for att inte ligga nagon till last. Nar hon fick diagnosen, akte hon hem direkt och tog tag i allt det praktiska som hon kunde. Hon rensade sin lagenhet, skrev listor med alla konton och passkoder, tog Eva och mig till banken och gav oss de fullmakter vi skulle behova mm. Mamma fornekade aldrig hur allvarlig diagnosen var, men fastan hon sakert var ledsen att hon snart skulle lamna oss satt hon aldrig still och tyckte synd om sig sjalv. I stallet tog hon tjuren vid hornen och gjorde allt som behovdes rent praktiskt sett. Hon klagade aldrig over sitt ode eller smartan utan var stoisk till det sista. Pa sjukhemmet berattade flera av personalen att hon varit mer bekymrad over dom och deras liv (som hon naturligtvis engagerat sig i) fastan hon sjalv hade det sa svart. Samtidigt var hon naturligtvis tvungen att acceptera mer hjalp an nansin mot slutet. Hon uppskattade verkligen den hjalpen och sag till att alla fick tackkort och sma presenter efter hon dog.

4. Vikten av att bry sig om andra: Mamma var en av de osjalviskaste personerna jag nansin kant. Om hon trodde hon kunde hjalpa dig och vara till nytta sa ville hon verkligen gora det. Hon tyckte genuint om att gora en extra anstrangning for att gladja nan annan, vare sig det var en hotellgast som hon knappast kande eller en familjemedlem. Man fick vara forsiktig nar man bad henne om nat, for hon sa aldrig nej, hur obekvamt det an blev for henne. Hon var ocksa valdigt omtanksam och glomde aldrig speciella dagar, utan uppvaktade alltid pa nat litet satt. Det finns sakert flera manniskor som inte kommer ha nan som kommer ihag varenda fodelsedag och namnsdag nu nar hon ar borta. Hon var genuint intresserad av andra manniskor, tyckte om att lyssna pa deras historier och att uppmuntra dom. Det basta man kunde ge henne var tid tillsammans. Tva av mina favoritminnen var resan till Moskva som Eva och jag gav henne pa hennes 75 ars dag och nar vi alla firade hennes 80-ars dag tillsammans i Fjallbacka. Hon alskade sin familj och tyckte om att se oss alla ihop. Under mitt sista besok sa berattade jag for henne att vi alla kommit narmare varandra de senaste manaderna. Da log hon stort och sa “Vad glad jag blir att hora det och att jag kunnat bidra till det.” Fastan jag onskar att vi kunnat ses pa hennes 90-ars dan istallet, vet jag att hon skulle blivit sa glad att vi alla ar har idag.

Visitors & Flowers

Lennart Ekstrand ✵ 1933-1995 (Husband)

Name at birth:    Hans Kristian Olsson 
Date of birth:    24 February 1973 
Place of birth:   Sundsvall, Sweden 
Date of death:    12 May 1997 
Place of death:   Sundsvall, Sweden 
Place of burial:  Hagas minneslund

Submitted by: Kristian Olsson (asq267r@tninet.se)

Visitors & Flowers

Name at birth:    Lennart Ekstrand 
Date of birth:    10/2/1933 
Place of birth:   Stockholm, Sweden 
Date of death:    26/11/1995 
Place of death:   Stockholm, Sweden 
Place of burial:  Memorial site (Minneslunden), Kungsholms kyrka, Stockholm, Sweden

Submitted by: Maria L. Ekstrand (MEkstrand@gmail.com)

It was very hard for my father to tell me that he had received a terminal diagnosis. One of his favorite sayings was: “Nothing is impossible”. Yet in September of 1995, he had to admit that, this time, that was not the case. He had been diagnosed with lung cancer 9 months earlier, gone through surgery and had been told that there was no trace of his cancer, when he suddenly developed pneumonia and had to be admitted to the hospital. They found the tumor in his remaining lung during that visit. Characteristically, my father’s first response was “OK, let’s remove it too”. It was not until his doctors told him that it would be impossible to perform any additional surgery that he resigned himself to his prognosis. I have never heard him sound so sad, or so resigned, before in my life. His voice broke as he told me that what hurt him the most was that he would not get to watch his five grandchildren grow up. After about two months of home hospice care, provided primarily by my mother, Berit Ekstrand, he died in the morning of Sunday, November 26, holding the hand of the woman he had loved for more than 41 years.

My dad grew up in the 30s and 40s in Stockholm, Sweden. He was the fourth of six siblings and the first extrovert in the family. He had an irrepressible optimism, sometimes reminiscent of the “Bobo doll” that gets back up, however hard the children hit it. He always managed to see opportunities and challenges, where other people saw only problems and hopelessness. Many liked to come and tell him their problems. Even if he couldn’t solve them, he always managed to give people some hope. What a great gift!

He also had a great sense of humor and laughed just as much at his own idiosyncracies as at those of others. He forced me to learn how to laugh at myself, not an easy task, especially during my teens, when I had the tendency to take myself way too seriously. It wasn’t that he made fun of us. Quite the opposite, he was a great supporter and cheer leader for both my sister and I. He always taught us to believe in ourselves, to think critically and to trust our “guts” and our brains. His sense of humor just followed from his positive outlook on life. It was so contagious that people loved to be around him.

My father’s ashes were scattered in the “Minneslund” (a park- like memorial site) of Kungsholms kyrka (church) near the all the sites he loved and where he grew up, played and went to school. He never wanted a grave, because he didn’t want family members to have to feel bound to visit and to maintain it. He used to say “If you want to remember me, just look at a picture. You can take that with you anywhere”. I don’t know where he is right now, but his ashes are in one of the most beautiful places in the world and I look forward to going back and visiting it to think about my dad, meditate and to admire the scenery. If I were there now I would say:

Dearest Pappa,

The world feels like a much darker and emptier place without you. I would give anything to see you again, or even to be able to call you on the phone and discuss our days, or the world’s problems. Even though we often didn’t agree on topics such as religion or politics, it never mattered. We both knew that those topics were not part of the glue that kept us together. I loved you and respected you as a person and I felt the same unconditional love and respect coming from you. You helped me keep things in perspective and you taught me how to be a compassionate person.

I will never forget the last time I saw you, standing on your balcony and waving goodbye. I had to return to San Francisco the next day and we both knew it would be the last time we ever saw each other. To this day I don’t know how I managed to get into the car and drive away.

I am so very grateful for the years we had, everything you taught me, and all you were to Jessica, Matthew and I. We miss you terribly!

Love forever, Maria

Visitors & Flowers

Berit Ekstrand (Rundstrom) ✵ 1932-2015 (Wife)