First trip to our familys historic landmarks
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We were on the deck of the ferry crossing the Kattegat Sea with Frederikshavn, Denmark behind us. My face was whipped by a cold August wind. My wife and I were in a partial embrace keeping warm and enjoying this wonderful adventure together, our first trip abroad together.
I look out towards the east knowing that Great Grandpa Olof Borg was on these waters. My exhilaration of seeing Sweden’s shores for the first time was very different from his trepidation and stirred heart as he left his home.
I spotted it, a glimmer of shore. I couldn’t hold back the emotion of that moment, my face moved into a wide grin and my blue eyes twinkled. I said to my wife, “This is the same port my Great Grandfather Ole left from”, my voice broke, “…and never returned.” “Could you imagine what he would think to know his Great Grandson is here retracing his steps?”
Family’s historic landmarks
On the Stena Line we landed in the port of Göteborg. The people on the ferry had me believing it would be worth it to me to load up a trolley with Carlsberg beer at the ferry’s duty-free low price. Although I made numerous fast friends, I have not repeated that on any subsequent trips.
Several days later, on our fifteenth wedding anniversary, a Volvo pulled up next to the hotel and after quick hellos we were in the car with Margareta Gullström-Linder and her husband Lennart. Margareta is the historian in our family. She has spent countless hours of years pouring over records documenting our family tree.
During our first trip to Sweden in 2015 they took us to our family’s historic landmarks, museums, art galleries, car show, in the water taxis, and heavenly meals in beautiful locations. I can’t possibly go over each of these, but there are a few I must.
Hits my shoulders and my soul
We went to an area of Norra Borgeby on a large hill overlooking övre Fryken. There were the remnants of a shed type of house made cave like in the hillside. At one time thirteen people lived there, in a room no bigger than a small living room.
As we were enjoying the spectacular view, Margareta profoundly states, “Our family has lived here, in this area for one hundred fifty years.”
The weight of that statement hits my shoulders and my soul. I dig my feet a little deeper into the soil, pick up a stone and hold it in my hand. I think of my Grandparents working the land in South Dakota trying to make a good life for their growing family as my ancestors did here. One hundred fifty years. Wow.
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