Or: Four Weddings and A Funeral

It is the time of the year when everything is new again – the grass on my fellow mountain staring at me from my window, the pumps in front of my door to slide into in the mornings ad so on.

Last week I attended a funeral for the first time here in Switzerland. It must sound odd but besides grief and love towards the ones left behind I also strongly felt me now really belonging here. That was very new. Being awaited on such an occasion means you must have a history – to those people, this place and time. A feeling of gratitude filled me for the long life of 94 years the grandma had had, and for the time I had had to become a part of it.

Ever so paradoxically, a day of shopping for a suitable new outfit later, I also attended my first wedding here. As common to the humble Swiss – the date was well known a year ago, and when finally arrived, a felicitous happening to all gathered. Moved to the bottom of my heart, I, together with siblings, was photographed standing next the beautiful bride and groom – as they said: practically family, anyway.

As often happens, feelings such as belonging somewhere, are not quite black and white. When the demonstrations started in Tallinn on Thursday, I could not help but feel heartbroken and angry. In a way I accused myself of simply standing aside, not being there for the ones I really belong with… During the past ten years, distances have shortened, but I guess I will need at least another decade to be able to melt down the distances between the two places I feel I belong to.

I still have three wedding-invitations outstanding this summer. Even if I do not have anything to wear yet, I am truly looking forward to those further spectacles. After all – it is the time of the year.