Tag: My Father

Books in the Mail

Recently in the mail, I received a book from Norway entitled, About America: Stories of Faith, Struggle, and Hope among Norwegian Emigrants. This book was sent to me by my second cousin in Norway, Sigrun. Her nephew, Jarle Haktorson, finished translating this book from Norwegian to English in 2025. The book was first published in 1904.  

About America was written by Hans Seland, Jarle’s great-grandfather (Sigrun’s grandfather on her mother’s side). Apparently, he was a well-known writer in his day.  As stated on the back cover, “Norwegian author Hans Seland traveled across the United States to meet the early emigrants who had left Norway behind in search of a new life. From the crowded streets of New York to the wide prairies of the Midwest, he recorded their voices, their hardships and their hopes for the future.”

It was interesting to read the stories of the emigrants finding their way in America. Having a grandparent emigrate to America is a fairly common story in Minnesota. Many folks have a story to tell about a family member leaving their homeland (typically Norway or Sweden) and finding their way to settle in Minnesota. My own grandfather Torkel, did. He came from Norway in 1907 (after this book was written.)  

It was a fun surprise to receive this book in the mail. I am thrilled that, years ago, through my father’s ambitions, we reconnected with our family in Norway and enjoy good relationships with them to this day. 

And then…this week I received three more books in the mail.

Three books full of letters from my father from 1942-1943.

When my aunt’s friend died in 2020, her family was going through her possessions and found a stack of letters my dad had written to his family during WWII. We did not know the letters existed until then.

My brother, bless his heart, scanned each letter and complied them into Shutterfly books. They filled three volumes. It is wonderful to have these letters in book form for easy access to them. 

A page from one of his letters, dated May 10, 1942.

My dad was a prolific writer. We were reflecting on the large amount number of letters he wrote back home. But then, it was the most common way of communication at that time.

I like this unusual postcard of a night scene with moon, sent from Tampa Florida where he was stationed for a while.

My dad was in the army, serving on a medic team (not a medic himself.) He served in England and France. We have letters he wrote to his parents, his sister and sometimes his brothers. We can glean attributes of my dad from these letters…his humor, his love for his family, and his caring concern for others.

Discovering these letters was a beautiful gift. These books will be treasured.

Books in the mail…how fun is that?

Slow, Leisurely Walks

Over the weekend we were with my 92-year-old uncle. Uncle Bob is my dad’s youngest brother. He’s never been in the hospital; he’s never been in a car accident. He lives with his wife of almost 70 years (August 2020) in their own home near Brainerd, MN. My Auntie Joyce will be 90 in April. Bob sometimes gets his dates confused but Joyce will chime in with the correct ones. They have had their share of hardships over the years but they have weathered them well together.  What a joy to be with them…in their beautiful home up north.

Trees line the driveway up to Uncle Bob’s home.

Gary and I went for a walk with Uncle Bob (Joyce stayed back). It was a slow, leisurely walk. As we walked I thought about leisurely walks with our two-year-old granddaughter up north last fall. Those walks with grandchildren are precious in a different way…they are slow walks because of their curiosity and exuberance. 

92…2: opposite ends of the spectrum…both slow, leisurely walks but for different reasons.

Uncle Bob and Gary stop on our walk to clarify something.

Although Bob is in good health he has slowed down a lot (but he’s happy he doesn’t need a walker). We really enjoyed slowing down and walking with him, and visiting as we walked. My father died at age 55 and Uncle Bob tells us stories of their childhood and a lot of the kindnesses my dad showed his brother and others (and also about a few pranks he played too). Gary never met my father and has told Bob he thinks of him as the father-in-law he never had.

Uncle Bob, me, Auntie Joyce.

I am so grateful for these times together. Uncle Bob wanted us to come to visit them and talk about our upcoming trip to Norway and the family ties. Now they want us to come back after our trip to hear all the stories we’ll have. We certainly will. It’s such a gift to have Uncle Bob and Auntie Joyce in our lives.

A beautiful sky over the snow covered field on Uncle Bob’s property.