17. Wind beneath my wings

My Dad and I are so much alike, we don’t give in. That’s why our arguments last so long. I have to raise my hat to Dad for he has stayed in the picture through this all. Not many men can handle this situation and it wasn’t easy for him. He is a strong person and says things the way he sees them, no embellishments. He can also be very pleasant and funny. He’s creative too, it’s from him I most likely inherited my fondness of performing. In fact, there are a lot of artists on his side of the family. Although I am joined from the hip with mom I am still daddy’s little girl.

A good father makes much difference in a child’s life. He’s a pillar of strength, support and discipline. A good father realizes that his children are human, and that making mistakes is part of growing up. He shows his kids that everything has its value. He teaches his children to appreciate things, he accepts that his kids aren’t exactly like him, he leads by example and most importantly a good father also illustrates the importance of affection by professing his love for their mother in front of them. And he won’t fight with her in their presence. In all, he adheres to the values he’d like his children to follow.

The winter of 1995 was the winter of discontent for my parents. It was the winter that produced this freezing northern breeze that blew down on their emotions and froze them solid.

Both of my parents supported me when I was modelling. They drove me everywhere I needed to go, sent me money when I lived abroad and even handled legal jargon and problems for me.

I cannot take all the credit for all that I have achieved after I became stuck to a chair. Much credit goes to my mother. I would not have been able to make it so far if she wasn´t the kind of person, woman, and a mother that she is. She is a real lioness with everlasting power, to pull through every situation.

My mother is motherly yet still very stylish. Once a friend of mine commented on how well my mother dresses. Outsiders can’t understand that the situation she was in. It can in many ways be compared to a state of war. Evidently the preservation of ones outward appearance is important, mentally and also emotionally. It helps when dealing with tough situation. Neglecting your personal appearance is a way of letting go; it is the first step of surrender and giving up hope. The outside reflects what’s on the inside.

Mom has always put her children first. Her work was no exception. She has and still does get along well with all our friends, my brother’s and mine. This is a big plus since she was and still often is included in visits from my friends.

Mom is just incredible. A person selling magazines called once and they talked and talked and talked like old friends. She says that she was shy when she was young! You would not believe this if you would see her now. Nowadays she’s always talking. When it comes to talking, mom and dad are the complete opposites. Mom and I always say that if dad loses his ability to speak, it would take weeks before you notice.

My mom and I have always had a close relationship. Before I had a stroke I told my mother everything. We never ever had secrets from each other. I told EVERYTHING to her. Even when I was seventeen I sometimes slept beside my mother. She was constantly by my side on that horrible night I was brought to the hospital. We have developed a frighteningly close bond through the years. She refers to us as the Siamese twins. When I still lived with parents sometimes we both unknowingly dressed in the same colours. Now that happens with assistants.

My mother doesn’t have to spell out words as much as the others when I am trying to tell her something. She can often guess what word or even sentence I mean from only the first letter. Usually only a look is enough. We laugh long and hard about everything under the sun.

I cannot believe my ears when I hear people complain about all the sacrifices it takes to be a parent. SACRIFICES!??? ….. If there is one thing I learned from my parents is; that all that it takes to be a parent is not a sacrifice. It is a duty. And I do not mean a duty of laws or rules, but a duty of nature, humanity. It is one of the main things about living, just after breathing, drinking, eating etc. I firmly believe this.

I am sure that there are those who would say that I speak like this because I do not have any child of my own. Well, I pity those people because they obviously do not have any idea of how blessed they are to be able to have a child. I don’t want one because it would be too much to ask from Henning. He has enough work taking care of me.

Life is precious and having the opportunity to be part of any other life that is not just your own is the only gift in life that will last forever. It is like a gift that keeps on giving and giving, forever and ever and ever.



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