I'm linking up today with other writers at Kate Motaung's blog for Five Minute Friday. Five minutes of free writing where the inner critic is checked at the door and writing is done with no edits and just for the fun of it. This week's prompt is dream.
I visited her exactly three different times in my life.
My ages were 4, 11 and 42.
She sits in the woods outside of the little village of Ljungby, Sweden. She's quaint. She seems like someplace from my dreams, but she happens to be very real.
She's so special that an artist painted her portrait some years ago.
Weddings were performed in front of her with wedding photos included. Yes, she's in many wedding photos. She stands quiet, but proud.
You see, she played with the children as they grew up.
Inga-Britt, Roland, Marianne and Birger were the children who ran up and down her stairs, slept in her beds, ran in her yard and under her trees.
They chased the squirrels and picked lingonberries in the forest surrounding her.
She still sits in the same place.
Little Osterlund.
Her children that ran around her have all since grown.
The boys grew into men, but have passed on from this life many years ago.
The little girls grew into fine young women, and married in front of the little house. They had children and grandchildren and even great grandchildren of their own.
Those little girls turned grandmothers each passed from this life in the last two weeks.
The little red house remembers all the laughter. She remembers all the love. She remembers the souls of this family who were born and lived and died all loving one another within her walls.
Little Osterlund.
{The oldest boy in this story is my father. The two girls are my aunts who each passed away in the last couple of weeks. My heart grieves the passing of this generation and my story is a tribute to my father, uncle and my two aunts who grew up in this small home in Sweden.}
Thanks for stopping by to read about a special little red house.
Blessings to you, friend!
~Anne
(my full name is Anne Britt, I am named after my two aunt's in this story, Marianne and Inga-Britt. I am so proud of that fact!)
I visited her exactly three different times in my life.
My ages were 4, 11 and 42.
She sits in the woods outside of the little village of Ljungby, Sweden. She's quaint. She seems like someplace from my dreams, but she happens to be very real.
She's so special that an artist painted her portrait some years ago.
Weddings were performed in front of her with wedding photos included. Yes, she's in many wedding photos. She stands quiet, but proud.
You see, she played with the children as they grew up.
Inga-Britt, Roland, Marianne and Birger were the children who ran up and down her stairs, slept in her beds, ran in her yard and under her trees.
They chased the squirrels and picked lingonberries in the forest surrounding her.
She still sits in the same place.
Little Osterlund.
Her children that ran around her have all since grown.
The boys grew into men, but have passed on from this life many years ago.
The little girls grew into fine young women, and married in front of the little house. They had children and grandchildren and even great grandchildren of their own.
Those little girls turned grandmothers each passed from this life in the last two weeks.
The little red house remembers all the laughter. She remembers all the love. She remembers the souls of this family who were born and lived and died all loving one another within her walls.
Little Osterlund.
{The oldest boy in this story is my father. The two girls are my aunts who each passed away in the last couple of weeks. My heart grieves the passing of this generation and my story is a tribute to my father, uncle and my two aunts who grew up in this small home in Sweden.}
Thanks for stopping by to read about a special little red house.
Blessings to you, friend!
~Anne
(my full name is Anne Britt, I am named after my two aunt's in this story, Marianne and Inga-Britt. I am so proud of that fact!)
*I'm not 100 percent sure about the weddings being performed at the house, but I've seen wedding photos with Osterlund in the background! Maybe my cousins can verify this!
ReplyDeleteThis is a beautiful poem of a little red house and family. Thanks for sharing! Blessings.
ReplyDeleteThanks for stopping by today, Shannon! My heart is full of blessings from this little place!
DeleteSo wonderful that you were able to share in your family heritage, Anne. Thank you for sharing.
ReplyDeleteThank you, Elaine. I so appreciate you stopping by today! Blessings!
DeleteLove this story, and the picture. I also like your blog it is very pretty.
ReplyDelete