Rich in Heaven

Yesterday I experienced something that my Grandfather spoke of when he was getting worse (which I’m hopefully not). He would wake up in his bed and not be able to figure out whether it was in the middle of the night or middle of the day. Sweden is a country that can do this to you, especially during the lighter part of summer and darker part of winter. I went to bed on Sunday at 8 post meridiem (p.m). and it was light. I wake up at 9 and it was light. I remember being astonished that I could dream all that in just one hour. Was my head starting to work faster? Now I can fully see why we work on the 24 hour clock in this country. The time was not 9 p.m (21:00), but 9 ante meridiem (a.m).

Café Rosendahl

I wrote wondering if things got Heavier Than Heaven a while back. Now I found a story about being Rich in Heaven (Rik i himlen) from the “Cricket” book. What would you stick in your suitcase if you were allowed to bring one? Is it healthy to even be thinking of these sort of things? I much rather at this point want to find out when my scan is to see if the treatment has worked. Zaman reminded me that only two months have passed since I had my last dose of radiation. TWO MONTHS! But if you think about it, almost SIX MONTHS have passed since all this started. Isn’t this the time when a project should have some sort of interim analysis or at least “what have we learned so far”?

A very wealthy man realised that he didn’t have that long to live and started to look back at his life. When he thought about how hard he had worked to earn his wealth, he squirmed at the thought of not being able to bring any of this wealth with him to heaven.

As a result, he started convincing himself that he should at least be allowed to bring one suitcase when he died. He prayed and prayed, and finally an angel appeared who promised to seek permission for one single suitcase.

The man turned his entire fortune into gold bricks, that he packed in the largest suitcase he could find. When he died it didn’t take very long until he stood in front of the gates of Saint Peter with suitcase in hand.

“Stop there”, said Saint Peter. “You have to leave your suitcase behind. No one is allowed to bring anything with them.”

“But”, said the man. “I have a special permission. Check with your boss and you shall see.”

Saint Peter disappeared for a while and came back with a surprised look.

“But why on earth do you want to bring a suitcase full of cobblestone?”

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1 Comment»

  livetsegentligheter wrote @

Hej gumman!
Ledsen att jag varit så dålig på att höra av mig..men så mycket har hänt och tiden har rusat i väg..helt känslomässigt slut! Hoppas vi kan ses snart! Stor Kram Tänker på dig!!!


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