Mor | Mother

I understand that several of you, my fellow bloggers, have ancestors from far away countries.
Here’s a little about my origin.

En lille smule om min oprindelse kan ses på den engelske udgave.


My Grandfather on my Mothers side was born in Denmark. He left home as a young man to experience the ‘New World’ in America. After having worked in New York and Chicago he met my Grandmother in Ontario, Canada. My Grandmothers parents were from Sweden. They emigrated sometime in the middle – late 19th. century.
My mother was born in Canada.After my mother and one more daughter were born, my Grandparents moved to Denmark.

20 years later I was born. But that’s another story.

21 tanker om “Mor | Mother”

  1. Carsten, I think you were on your way from the moment your father saw those dancing eyes! I’ll bet she was a very wise mother.

    It’s interesting to learn of your family migrations. I’ve been doing a lot of research about the late 19th century, and I’ve concluded that there was a great restlessness abroad in the world. Maybe there always is. “Let’s go see what life is like beyond that mountain, that sea, that horizon.” And then, sometimes, simply, “Let’s go home now.”

    1. You were in my mind when I wrote about my ancestors Gerry. I think you have shown interest in swedish tradition. You are probably right about the restlessness (5 s’s!). If we include hard life and shortage of food then the motivation for the large journey was even greater.

  2. Hallo Carsten
    Very nice woman, your mother in her youth – I think your daughter Line looks like her !
    Love to see you and Lise saturday.
    Michael

  3. Lovely looking lady 🙂 Such a sweet smile too. Thanks for sharing this precious photography of your mother. Interesting to see the various origins of family members. My own father is Swiss-Italian, my dear mother was Swiss-French, they never emigrated although they loved travelling in their life.

    1. Thank you very much Isabelle.
      Today I saw a short glimpse of this lovely smile on her tired face. She is bravely awaiting the end of her life.

  4. Oh, Carsten, I did not realize that your mother is dying. I’m glad that those dancing eyes are able to rest on your face, and that she is surrounded by such tenderness on her last journey. My heart goes out to you.

    1. Thank you for your kind words Gerry.
      Today my mother came home from the hospital. She has decided to defeat the cancer – and die of starvation instead. She feels no hunger any more and sleeps most of the time.
      I am sitting here by her bed, listening to the sound of her weak breathing.
      her face looked tortured the last day in the hospital, but after she came home she has a peaceful look.
      I never expected this.

  5. Carsten, I am so sorry to hear your mother is dying… You did very well in bringing her back home if this was possible. I feel confident that her passage will be peaceful as she is accompanied by your love and care. I believe that the serenity of being at home will comfort your dear mother and help her leaving. Thinking of you and yours.

  6. A lovely spirit shines out of those lovely eyes…
    May her journey home be peaceful. My prayers will be coming your way from across the waters tonight Carsten.

  7. My sister found peace when she knew she could not fight her cancer no more. Acceptance was hard to accept of the rest of us but, in hour hearts, we knew it was time, too. Hard to let go…hard to see a loving person fade away. My it give you all peace in the end and loving memories forever.

  8. If you knew how much your kind words mean to me…
    I can’t thank you enough.
    Now I just feel so terrible because I’m sad for my loss instead of feeling happy because my mother found her peace.
    Thanks to all of you. Also to you, who will not write comments here.

      1. Welcome here beyond bluestockings.
        Thoughts and prayers from fellow bloggers and friend helps a lot.
        I had a short peek at your blog. It will take much of my time before I finish reading. Thanks for your kind wish.

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