The inconceivable has come to pass; Axel and I are an item. Four months have elapsed since we met in England (see posts Canada, A Finn Named Axel, My language Versus Yours, Spanish Omelette, Toronto), and soon I will be moving to Finland to be with him. Romance finally blossoms between us during the weekend in Brentwood just before Axel returns home to Helsinki (see post Spanish Omelette). Sat in the dim lit theatre of London’s West End watching its longest running play, The Mouse Trap we finally hold hands, and by the time we visit the ancient Greensted Church in Ongar the following day we have kissed; our destiny is sealed. Everything preceding is now forgotten including the awkward detail of a girlfriend awaiting Axel in Finland, as well as the exhaustingly unpredictable behavior of the man himself. This must be what Love does to you. I have already been to Helsinki for a two-week vacation to visit Axel, and besides a leafy birch tree leaning into the water on the shores of the beautiful Lake Kaitalampi he casually proposes and I respond in the affirmative. I am thrilled and soon Axel and I will marry. Mama is not at all happy. She is not happy for three specific reasons:
Number one; I will be marrying a person that Mama and Papa have met all of once and who they know virtually nothing about. They are alarmed. In addition to this, no-one in the family knows a thing about Helsinki, let alone Finland. The country is one big unknown up there on the map of Europe somewhere close to the Arctic Circle, seemingly frozen over most of the year and if that were not enough of a deterrent, next door to The Soviet Union, an even bigger unknown. Do I have any idea of what I am letting myself in for? I am constantly asked. Besides all this, Axel is only twenty-one and I am already twenty-four. Can I not find someone nearer to my own age Mama sarcastically asks me? I wisely choose to ignore this comment.
Number two; I have resigned my stellar job at Ford Motor Company so that I can move to Finland to be with Axel. Mama is more than annoyed, she is cross. How can I renounce a career with such potential? She cannot understand the way my mind works. I have the job and Axel is the student, so logically thinking he should come to England to be with me and not the other way around!
Number three; The Roma fortune teller’s prediction indeed came true! I am leaving England and moving abroad to begin a new life with a mysterious foreign man (see post Canada). She said that she saw Canada, not that I was moving there. Mama is now more than annoyed or cross; she is fuming with irritation and would like to box the ears of said Fortune Teller if she were ever to cross her path again. How dares she predict a future that came so terribly true? Roma Fortune Tellers are now being very wise and firmly staying away from our home at 51 Crescent Road. Perhaps they can predict that if they come anywhere near to it, they will be on the receiving end of boxed ears? After a while, Mama realizes that it is futile to try to dissuade me; my mind is made up and I am leaving.
A few weeks before I move to Finland I pay a visit to my childhood friend, Jennifer to share with her the exciting news. Jennifer’s father also happens to be at home, so he too is privy to this thrilling development and I expect him to be as equally captivated by my news as his daughter. I am disappointed. ‘Don’t do it!’ comes the immediate reply delivered with a tone of measured concern. ‘You will be going to a semi-communist state bordering with The Soviet Union and once you are there, chances are that may not even be able to leave.’ Now Jennifer’s father is a Chartered Gas Engineer and the epitome of all things British and educated, so I must presume that he knows what he's talking about. But I am not quite convinced; 'That's funny'. I think to myself, 'I was there just a few months ago, and they let me out at the end of my holiday.’
Of course, I listen to the Chartered Gas Engineer as much as I listen to Mama, which is not at all. In fact, he makes me want to move there than ever. In any case, what does he know about Finland all the way from England? He has never been there, so I value his opinion as much as that of ex-Norwegian boyfriend Anders (see post Spanish Omelette). There is only way to find out if there is any truth to what he says; I must go there and see for myself. And so it comes to pass that, on a cold December’s day in 1988 and with my most precious valuables crammed into one suitcase, I bid farewell to Mama, Papa and Sis and board the Finnair London to Helsinki flight.
History is once more repeating itself; Just as Mama bid a tearful goodbye to her own Mama many moons before in May of 1970 to move to England, I will be doing the same but this time to Finland (see post Share The Moon). Along with this farewell I also bid goodbye to the name that has identified me for the duration of my time on this emerald island. Upon arrival in Helsinki my name will revert back to Maria del Carmen; Marie will remain behind on English soil. The plane soon disappears into the clouds and along with it vanishes the only home that I have known since the age of six; after many years spent in exile it is time to move on. The Little Bird has finally spread her wings and learned to fly. Great Grandma Celia looking down on me from her place in Heaven would be proud (see post Little Bird).
History is once more repeating itself; Just as Mama bid a tearful goodbye to her own Mama many moons before in May of 1970 to move to England, I will be doing the same but this time to Finland (see post Share The Moon). Along with this farewell I also bid goodbye to the name that has identified me for the duration of my time on this emerald island. Upon arrival in Helsinki my name will revert back to Maria del Carmen; Marie will remain behind on English soil. The plane soon disappears into the clouds and along with it vanishes the only home that I have known since the age of six; after many years spent in exile it is time to move on. The Little Bird has finally spread her wings and learned to fly. Great Grandma Celia looking down on me from her place in Heaven would be proud (see post Little Bird).
To be continued ......
Note: All written content is the intellectual property of this Author. Image material is drawn largely from Pixabay with some additions from private family archives.
