So…

 … life. It is so precious and there is really nothing one can do about that. If you get easily sad, upset or something like that — just look at the photos. That is totally OK. 

A well known view, my childhood place.

Esther with a gnome.

I have been a bit silent, even if it was not my plan. Some of you know why, I have posted on Facebook and Instagram. Thought that I could post here too, now that I am feeling a bit better. Last post about the wonderful Comic Con, was planned to follow by a post about the things I bought and then there would be a post about my two new Fairyland dollies. 

Esther with some of my mum's and mine collected things.

Made these, the birds and flowers, to my dad.

But that have to wait. For a while. The year started well and it felt nice. On one Friday late night, in January, I was sitting in the kitchen writing in my Bullet Journal and taking my medication for my diabetes, when the door bell rang. I heard some steps before and someone touching a bunch of keys and thought that it was the neighbor’s son coming home from a party or something alike. I was surprised when our door bell rang. 

Esmé.

Esther and a pink/white cat, that I bought in my youth, in my childhood room.

Bentley, sound a sleep, was up fast but did not bark or sound as he usually does. The girls came up too and wondered who was on the door at this time at night. The youngest daughter looked out the window and saw a police. I did not understand why and what had happened. We woke up my husband and he opened the door. Yes, I could have opened the door but I was afraid and anxious for many reasons and did not understand what was happening. I could see it on my husbands face that he knew. 

Esmé and one of my mother's made cross stitches.

Esmé sitting at a book shelf, with some of my mother's collectibles and my dad's books.

Esmé and gnomes.

And when the police asked after me, I knew too, deep down, but did not want to accept it. 

My dad had past away. 

The two police officers told us what had happened but I could not hear a thing, I was crying and felt devastated. He was doing well during the holidays, in the beginning of the year and we had contact as usually. He said he was feeling well and that all was good. His home care takers and some friends told us that they were a bit worried about his health, and kept an eye on him. When we went to his place to plan, have a funeral and clean up, I spoke to some of his neighbors. They had seen him down town, shopping for groceries, just days before. He had bought coffee, bread, saffron buns and Finnish foods to enjoy during the last holiday in January. 

Met an investigator, because my dad was found dead at home, who was really lovely and guided me through this difficult time. I thought that I would never say or write this; but an autopsy has been made and results will come in this summer. Long wait.

Last sniff.

Last hug.

The most is done after my dads passing and he is resting in peace. 

Hope you had a lovely Easter!