Wednesday, May 19, 2010
...or at least part of it. Behind this door is the house where my grandfather Frans was born in 1909 in Dalecarlia. They were nine siblings, he was youngest and his mother died when he was 16. They were not to well off, but the old wall paintings in one of the rooms tell us that there was creative joy. Frans was the first in his family who got to study, he worked hard and he created a wonderful life. He married Viola, from the same village, and became a musical director, conductor and teacher. They had three children, one of them my mother. When Frans got old, and couldn´t hear to well, he started to paint mainly landscapes. I remember him from my childhood as warm but full of a spectrum of deep feelings, a man who sometimes was caught by sadness.
We can learn a lot about ourselves by just looking a generation or two away. My children love his old house, now called the Bakery because people in the village still bake in the old oven there.