Happy Anniversary!

No, it's not my wedding anniversary--that was back in May. As of today, it's exactly thirteen years since I first moved to Sweden. Heja Kim! :) I can still remember how nervous I felt in the weeks leading to my leaving Richmond, Virginia and moving here. Part of the time I walked around in a daze. It helped that I was working at the time for a department at VCU that did tele-research for the various state authorities. Between 3 and 6 hours a day I called people, who found all of us who were calling them and asking them to answer health questions on behalf of Virginia's health department exceeding annoying or just too nosy.

In between phone calls, I fretted over if I had enough money saved up (I didn't), would I like my new job in Sweden (well, the first one fell through before I even arrived but another one eventually came along), would Tord and I be able to stick it out when we were finally together on a full-time basis or was it a case of absence making the heart grow fonder (didn't need to worry about that). In short, I was terrified but I think I did an okay job of pretending I had no doubts at all because sometimes I even fooled myself.

On the day I was supposed to leave the US, Andrew, Inge, Paula and Mona took me to Dulles and they kept me from sinking too often into my own thoughts. When we arrived, the KLM check-in personnel informed me my flight had been canceled and that everyone booked on the Sunday flight to Amsterdam was being put up in rooms at the airport hotel. This hiccup was enough to rattle me. I hadn't planned for this, didn't have any phonecards or credit cards (I'd gotten rid of all my American cards by that point) but Inge gave me her phonecard so I could call Tord and let him know I would be a day late arriving in Stockholm.

As it turned out, I was two days late arriving in Stockholm. The flight I was scheduled to take the next day was several hours late leaving Dulles so I missed my connecting flight from Amsterdam to Stockholm. I ended up having to spend the night in Amsterdam, which should have been fun but I was so focused on getting to Stockholm and to Tord that I had no real interest in anything else. Besides, by the time my flight landed in Amsterdam, it was nearly one in the morning and the only thing I wanted to do was take a shower and go to bed. So much for excitement and adventure!

I tried to sleep but I spent more time tossing and turning, reviewing the three years I'd spent in Richmond, my life PT (pre-Tord) and how I was embarking on seriously major change. I was twenty-five and I was taking this huge step--moving to another country and leaving everything behind--and I suddenly understood why my mother was so worried about me and what I was doing. I didn't know anyone else in Sweden other than Tord and his family. I didn't have a support network in case things went horribly wrong. If I fell, there was nobody to catch me. And it was both thrilling and frightening.

But thirteen years later, I can say I have survived a hell of a lot of ups and downs in Sweden. Tord and I are still together and I can honestly say that--if I knew then what I know now, I wouldn't change a thing.