It’s Mother’s Day in Sweden today. It’s always been a weird day for me since age six, as that’s when mom died. We had our own traditions though – going to see our grandmas. I often think about this. Life may have been cruel in the sense that it removed my mom, but I got two moms instead. I did get a step-mom too whom I would have been happier without, but what my grandmas taught me was such a great gift. The down to Earth groundedness that I was brought up with…cooking, gardening – the taking care of your own back yard mentality so filled with honesty and respect…I don’t know where I’d be without it. I remember my best friend’s mom saying to us when we were living in Hollywood, that well one thing she wasn’t scared of was us losing our minds to fame and fortune because by the end of the day we were two lunatics getting over excited about the orange tree in our garden, repainting the living room, or finding a new recipe. We didn’t exactly put on airs in the Hollywood Hills….even though we both love the Hollywood Hills like crazy.
We were sunbathing in the garden today, my best friend and I. In fact I’m still sunbathing writing this and it once again hit me how lucky I’ve been. A lot of things in my life were chaos when I was a kid and to say that I was messed up is an understatement. My ego got pretty squashed by classmates and my step-mom and I can see the tendencies I have to this day to hide in my ego, to be cold and shut people out, to be petrified of love, to want to be perfect plastic fantastic…but through all this what always grounds me is where I came from. I remember being looked after by my grandparents, or spending an evening with my dad looking at the stars when were sailing. I remember sitting in the sunshine on the deck scrubbing potatoes for dinner, or waiting patiently for hours to catch some fish. I remember picking berries and doing acrobatics in the garden. I remember that I just am and all the love around me that was and still is. I remember me.
So today I would like to thank my two grandmas, one who’s still alive, for the endless hours they spent watching me grow up – whether teaching me to apply nailpolish, or pick elder flowers to make a cordial. Whether to deck me out for a masquerade, or spend time with me in hospitals when I had asthma. Whether to go through every damn store in town to find my favorite, out of print books, or bake ginger breads for Christmas. More than anything I want to thank them for their love. Through their love I survived. Whenever my ego, or my heart (because of my ego getting in the way) gets broken I pick up a whisk and start whipping up a cake, or I run barefoot through the fields. And I remember who I am. Beyond the exterior. I’m someone with dirt under my fingernails running through the garden sprinkler system with the biggest imaginable grin on my face.