I guess you could say that the family property in Kristiansand is a family compound because it’s about six acres and there are five houses, some more cabin than house, on the land. Once entirely owned by my grandfather and Mormor, it has been divided and passed down in generations from Mom, her brother and sister to Randi, my cousin Lillebeth and her children and their families, and my American Kennan cousins Grace, Christopher, and Wendy.
Paul drove the rental car that the American contingent shares to the Kennan house, once my grandfather and Mormor’s house, a place that holds so many joyful memories for all of us. We were invited to dinner and there to greet us were Wendy, her daughter Katia and Katia’s ten-and a half month-old daughter, Barbara, and my cousin Joan. They served us salmon baked in a tent of tin foil with a port sauce made by Katia. Delicious!
At pretty much ten on the dot, Grace stood up and said, “If you’re going to open up the cabin tonight, we’d better get over there while it is still light.”
We walked through the woods to Mom’s cabin. I immediately slipped around the side to look at the sea. My heart lifted at the sight.
SUCH NIGHTIME BEAUTY!
But, moments later we entered the land of FRUSTRATION quickly descending into TIREDNESS because the key was not to be found, even after a call to the States to speak to my sister, Randi. Another walk through the woods brought us to the house of my Lillebeth’s son, and there–having finally retrieved some key–we returned with hope.
We entered my mother’s sacred space. Very little has been changed. But when we couldn’t get anything to work it being dark outside and inside, TIREDNESS became EXHAUSTION.
With dust and must in the stale cabin air, and with deck furniture barring the way round without light, we gave up and fell into bed.