On October 23rd my grandmother turned 101 years old. I called her, as I’ve always done on her birthdays, and she was as surprised as she always was when I’ve called from California. “Happy birthday grandma!” I said. She was quiet. “It’s Stine” I added. “Is it Stine? Are you calling from America!?” For her it was always very grand to get a phone call from America. After I confirmed that I was calling from America she immediately asked me how I was doing and she expressed concerns about me being sick and how I was recovering. I reassured her that I was doing well despite feeling bad right now, but that I know I will get well. We had a 20 min conversation about me, her, the pandemic, and a vaccine we both hoped would be working and available soon. She asked about Benjamin and how he was doing at the university. He came in while we were talking and I gave the phone to him. They had a nice chat about his online classes. She was so alert and up to date about everything. “101 grandma – an impressive age” I said. “Yes 101 – quite unreal” she responded.

Last year when I visited her on her 100th birthday we had a long conversation about how happy she was about the life she had had. A life that had its ups and downs and struggles and joys. She felt very accomplished and expressed that she was done wanting to accomplish more. She had achieved what she wanted and by that in particular she meant how happy she was about how well her two sons, her four grand children and all her great grandchildren were doing. She said she could not wish for more. Her knees and hips were hurting and she was tired. “If I die tomorrow – I’m fine with that” she said. And then she did. Only one day after she had talked to her loved ones that called or visited her on her 101st birthday. One day after she was reassured that everyone she loved were doing fine. At 101 and 1 day she passed away quietly in her own bed. Her heart just stopped beating. 

Her name was Solveig. Translated to English – Sun Road. At the same time as she made her way to her bed I was sleeping in the couch in our backyard. It was an overcast day and at one moment the sun broke through the clouds and woke me up. This happened around the time she passed away. I want to belive that it was her saying her goodbyes and blessings to me and telling me that she was doing fine now. I’m very glad she died the way she wanted to. Not in a hospital after days or months of suffering. It was a good way to die. I hope she wasn’t scared. 

“You are my eldest grandchild – my eldest grandchild” was one of the last things she said to me. She became a grandmother when she was 50. She said it was alway easy to remember how old I was because she could just subtract 50 from her own age. “You know, I’m 50 years older than you.” She always smiled when she said that. I have very fond childhood memories from visiting her. We did lots of stuff and laughed a lot together. She was good at being a grandmother. I spent weekends and vacations at her house. I slept on the couch in the dining room, or in my grandfather’s bed when he wasn’t there. I remember I was so fascinated by a crocheted shoulder warmer with a bow tie that she put on when she was reading or doing crossword puzzles before going to sleep. I thought it was so posh and fancy. At some point I had one as well. I don’t remember who gave it to me, but it might have been her. She was an avid crossword puzzler. I never became as good as her, not even close, but she taught me how nice and relaxing it was to do them. We used to play Monopoly. Just her and I. We never finished a game – probably because we always started after dinner and played well past any of our bed times. I enjoyed sitting in her couch playing and breaking the bed time rule. She always let me be the bank and she taught me how to easily count without using a calculator when giving money back. That knowledge helped me alot when I started working at a retail store. She often took me to her vacation house in the woods. She had a little vegetable garden there. I don’t recall if she grew more than potatoes, but I remember walking around in the vegetable garden with her. She was allergic to insect bites so she often wore long sleeves, gloves and a hat with netting on it. I was also very fascinated by that hat. She was telling me stories about how swollen her insect bites got and how funny her face looked if she got bit. I liked hearing her stories. She told me stories about when she traveled to visit my grandfather when he worked at sea. She went to ports his boat stopped in and sometimes she also joined him on the boat. She told stories about growing up on a farm, how hard it was to be better at school than her older brother and how she had to fight for learning to play the piano. She was lucky to have a math teacher that recognized how good she was at math and that supported her and gave her books that were meant for older children. Without much tutoring she learned how to play the piano. A skill that gave her much joy throughout her whole life. She used to play in a band with her brother and his friends. The only girl. They traveled near and far and played the latest hits from America so people could dance and have fun. 

Even if I know she was ready, I’ve cried and I’m sad. One of the cornerstones in my life and my last living grand parent is now gone, but the fond memory of a loving, smiling, laughing, piano playing grandmother will forever live in my heart. I will always remember the sun beams that woke me up when she passed and I am taking that as a sign that she is watching over me, making sure that I heal.