Reviewing 2008

In only four days 2008 will be history. Three hundred and sixty five days in seemingly rapid succession will shortly be brought to a close. And this means that I can safely begin to assess the year that brought one monumental change to my life.


The year I became a blogger....

No, it's not the fact that I made my debut as a blogger that I'm thinking about. But it's proven to be big fun to publish what would otherwise have remained undisclosed to everyone save one. So I'll definitely continue making public my afternoon musings and reflections concerning whatever may catch my attention. I hope some of you have enjoyed what you've been reading, although I'm still in the dark as to how many have actually visited this webpage of mine.

And no again, I wasn't thinking about the near-collapse of the world financial markets this year, either. I don't own any shares or bonds or anything of that sort, so I wasn't particularly badly hit
by the sudden downturn of events, sparked by what appears to be the effects of prolonged efforts to aggrandize profits. The irony is that those chiefly responsible for this financial debacle, are people and corporations who had already had more than their fair share of the benefits money can yield.

And so the time came to say goodbye.....

The monumental change of my life occurred on September 18, the very day my youngest daughter turned 6. That's when I lost my father Erik, who eventually had to capitulate to the ravaging cancer that had been vexing him for the past four years. His last year was a particularly dismal one; half of which was spent within the confines of hospital doors where he fretted and agonized over the frequent setbacks he seemed certain to face once the skies had turned one barely noticeable shade of bright, hope-inspiring blue.

Our highest hopes would come crashing down, as would his, whenever short spells at home with my mother were terminated by yet another necessary operation. Or were they really necessary? Incompetence probably didn't kill my father, but he certainly could have ended up with far more able doctors than the ones he got.

Feeling cheated

I've no bitter feelings towards any of them, but I do feel cheated of valuable time that I very much looked forward to spending with him and my mother. Last Christmas they both expressed their desire to travel to Bergen, and be treated to a genuine, Aasgaard-style Christmas celebration in 2008, with all the trappings that come with it in this part of the country.

It was never to be. And the list of things that will never again be shared by father and son is depressingly long. Because death has a boundless capacity to catch us unawares. It's so utterly capable of robbing us of all our comforts, hopes and aspirations. He should have remained with us well into his eighties, but his brief sojourn only got to last a mere 68 years.

It really should comfort me that he's probably with God now, enjoying an eternal rest from all that plagued and him in the final stage of his life. But I can't help it. Heaven's gain is still my loss - for a long time to come.