Do you ever wonder where you’ll be ten years from now? I certainly do and have done throughout my life.
Growing up, I had many deep conversations with my dad about the future and about what we’d like to do. He wasn’t just my dad; he was one of my best friends. We planned on travelling together – with any (understanding) future partner and children I might have – and we had a bucket list of places to go and things we wanted to see.
Twenty years ago, he was still around and we took a trip to Orlando, Florida. It was a fabulous week and we laughed a lot. Sixteen years ago, I had my daughter and my dad was delighted to be a grandfather. His plans for what we would do grew even more exciting and adventurous and he was so enthusiastic about where we would take my daughter and how well travelled she would be.
Norway was one of the places we talked about visiting. With its mountains, glaciers and deep coastal fjords, it sounded perfect. There would be the chance to see authentic Viking ships in Oslo’s museum, to take a cruise on the Sognedfjord – Norway’s longest and deepest fjord – and to hike and ski. And, of course, there would be the opportunity to visit Tromsø, to ride on a sleigh through the snow, and hopefully witness the magnificent Aurora borealis.
Sadly, my dad passed away in 2004, when he was just fifty-eight and my daughter was eighteen months old. My world fell apart and it seemed that my dreams did too.
However, my dad was a man who seized life, who lived every day and who would have hated for me to give up. As I gradually came to terms with my loss, I grew stronger and began to enjoy life again. Fourteen years on, I still miss him every day, but I have so much to be grateful for and so much to live for. With my loving husband, two beautiful children and three funny dogs, there is much to smile about. I’m also living my childhood dream as an author, something that would have made my dad very proud indeed.
Love at the Northern Lightsis dedicated to my dad and to the dreams we shared. The story isn’t about him, or me, but it was inspired by our conversations and our bucket list.
I don’t know where I’ll be ten years from now, but I know where I want to be and what I’d like to do.
One day, I will get to see the northern lights, and when I do, I’ll be holding my dad in my heart.