Dear stranger who accidentally dropped a ten pound note at Waterloo tube this morning,

I don’t know who you are, because I didn’t see anyone drop it. It was just lying there, by the ticket barrier, and I had no way of knowing who it belonged to. I thought about leaving it, or give it to the person working at the station, or asking if anyone had dropped some money. But I picked it up, and took it with me.

Did I think I’d hit the jackpot? No, that’s not who I am. I looked for the people with the buckets collecting for charity, but for once there weren’t anyone around. I didn’t see any homeless people sleeping next to the station either, which is something that hardly ever happens. But I didn’t want to spend your tenner, because it wasn’t my tenner and if I spent it for me, it would feel like stealing.

So here’s what I did. I went online and donated £10 to Shelter. I didn’t keep your money, even though I have the actual note itself. But I didn’t make any money today, I’m no better off by finding your tenner. By donating to shelter, maybe someone else would be a bit better off from the money you lost. I’m sorry I couldn’t give you your money back, as I don’t know who you are that wasn’t possible. If I’d asked around, someone else would’ve probably seen their opportunity to say “oh yes it’s mine” and spend it on themselves. This way, even though I did pick up your money, at least it went somewhere good. I’d like to think you’d be cool with that.

Regards,

the stranger who found your money.

Good think we kept looking. It’s been more than four years and he looks lovelier to me now than he did back then.

Picture by Simon Stacey

I haven’t been posting for a while, because I went away for two weeks on holiday. In fact, the two most recent posts were both written and posted in Southern California, where I was doing my best to relax and have a nice time despite the whole mormor thing. Mormor is back in the state where she was before she got sick (this time) and well, life goes on. Will I see her again? I have no idea. It could be tomorrow, or it could be months from now. We have no way of knowing.

Coming back I was jet lagged and busy, but I’m hoping to get back into the groove of writing again. I should do a post on my lovely trip to So-Cal, the Jimmy Kimmel experience, seeing Amanda and Beth, going out to Palm Springs, the disastrous useless pool situation, the even more disastrous stuck in traffic situation, the highs and lows of Coachella, all of it. But now I am le tired and shall go to bed.

I’ll leave you with one thing though, my favourite joke about the ash cloud situation.

It was the last wish of the Icelandic economy that its ashes be spread over Europe.

I can’t remember where I read it now, but I found it genuinely hilarious.

Mormor is fully recovered, she’s talking and laughing, and is apparently in better shape than in years. One of my mother’s friends told my mother that her mother kept swinging back and forth between well and unwell for six months before she passed away.

So who knows. I feel a bit awkward towards work now, and the next time this happens I don’t know how I’m gonna respond.

I had to leave Norway on Friday, but I’m getting frequent updates from my mother.

Today, mormor talked more than she’s done in months. She remembered all of us. She remembered who I am and when mum asked me if there was anything she’d like to say to me, and mormor said that she would really like to see me again. Cue crying my eyes out, too far away.

It seems to to swing from day to day at the moment. Today she was really well, much better than in a long time. But only two days ago everyone thought it was a matter of hours. I can’t even begin to understand how my mother gets through the days at the moment. I wish I could have stayed longer. I would’ve gladly sat there for days more, singing to mormor, holding her hand.

I would very much like to see you again too, mormor. This is breaking my heart.