The Lundgren hug

-Always in my heart, best Dad ever!

At my arrival yesterday I see my sister and my cousin Per hugging. I know they haven’t seen each other in years, but the hug comes very natural. Let’s say the hug is a family tradition.

A couple of weeks ago my uncle Daniel passed away, 95 years old, and that’s the reason for the extended family getting together. Daniel was the widower after my father’s sister Ingegärd who died already in her mid fifties. Despite that, Daniel continued to live an active and rich life, and even though he had a stroke some years ago and it was hard for him to communicate in words, he still won the chess game played with his son Per, his head clear and sharp until the end.

It is Per posting on Facebook that his dad was the best one ever, always in his heart. And I am thinking that’s how I feel about my dad. And I would say all of us children who were blessed with fathers in the Lundgren family.

They were six siblings, the children of Johan and Astrid Lundgren, growing up only a few meters from the rushing Öre River 40 kilometers south of Umeå, day and night accompanied by it’s roaring voice. Grandfather Johan worked long weeks at the big sawmill on the island Norrbyskär in the Bothnian Bay while grandmother Astrid took care of the half dozen children playing next to one of the biggest rivers in Sweden, running to that very same Bay.

Sigrid was the oldest, my father Martin number two, his brother Bertil next in line and then “the girls”, Ingegärd, Gertrud and Barbro. They all grew up to be independent and self-sufficient individuals, yet all through life carrying a strong, warm and loving family connection. And a great loss probably made the bond even tighter: only in her early twenties, Gertrud was taken from them, if I recall it right, in sepsis.

Sigrid, Ingegärd and Barbro were tall young women with distinct and amazing natural colors: Sigrid the golden blond, Ingegärd the copper read head, and baby sister Barbro the brunette with the brown eyes. Their hair thick and curly. I still remember my mother’s envy of those hairs, wishing them for her daughters. That didn’t happen unfortunately, but my sister and I got the height and the body structure from the Lundgren sister and their brothers. And the low blood pressure that comes with that, making us rise up carefully from sitting.

Anyway, the beautiful Lundgren sisters from the beach of the Öre River all found their husbands in their village. Or maybe those young men found them; the search couldn’t have been too hard. Helge, Daniel and Lennart married Sigrid, Ingegärd and Barbro. The brothers were a bit more adventurous, my father Martin married my mother Kerstin who came from Umeå, and Bertil met his Fanny all the way from Jämtland! We are nine cousins originating from the handsome Lundgren brood, and yesterday, at the farewell of my uncle Daniel, seven of us got together again.

So, I had already been thinking about the best dad ever. And listening to the recalls about Daniel I was thinking that the description would have been true for anyone of the men in the Lundgren family, born Lundgren or married to one of the Lundgren sisters. They were all likeable, sympathetic, generous, intelligent, and although not academic I would say intellectuals. And they took pride in at all times being very well dressed. I remember the sense of walking next to my dad, as a girl as well as a grown up woman, always feeling proud of his appearance and of being there. And I believe that’s something I share with my sister and female cousins.

They were also unconventional for that time. They liked cooking and baking (two of theme were actually professionals!) and spending time and taking care of us kids were as natural as rain to them, we all grew up in that embracing hug. The six of them were married to strong independent women and became role models for sons and daughters as well as grandchildren.

I am wondering what grandpa Johan and grandma Astrid gave their children, making them such nice people. It wasn’t money for sure. Was it only love? My aunt Barbro has told me how much her parents liked each other, how sweet they were together. And I’m sure they gave a lot of that love to their children in many ways. But there must have been something else. Shaping these people who have walked the earth with such natural self-esteem, such upright glow. Or maybe it was the hugs? Maybe they are that powerful.

The farewell to uncle Daniel was beautiful, warm, fun and sad. In the circle round his coffin there is only one of Johan and Astrid’s children left, the baby sister Barbro. Now grey, she is still as tall and beautiful as ever. And she, the loving matriarch keeping the extended family together, is the one clearing her voice, reading the poem, bidding the family farewell.  It was a painfully powerful moment.

I am a big hugger, not only within the family. I even kiss on the cheek when I feel like it. I know it’s sometimes confusing, but I also know that it’s empowering and disarming. I have often wondered why I do that though, where it comes from. But yesterday it became very clear to me. It comes from the beach of the rushing Öre River. And the circle around the coffin is wide. There are grandchildren, great grandchildren and even great great grandchildren originating from the love of Johan and Astrid Lundgren. The family tradition is secured and we will go on confusing and sharing outside the circle. The Lundgren hug will be spread, and who knows how big a family can get!