True friendship and love in the quiet life of motorhome living

Read this post in Swedish »

Introduction

This is a post about closeness – the real kind. About conversations that deepen, love that matures, and the people who carry us when life hurts. A weekend filled with coffee, lake views, and a full heart.

In the motorhome, with coffee, memories – and a heart full of gratitude

I’m sitting in the motorhome, writing. Not out in the open air as I usually do, but even this is cozy. The coffee is warm and right beside me. This past weekend has been so lovely. I got to see my dear cousin – and the bond between us is still just as strong.

There has always been an invisible thread between us. We don’t see each other often, but when we do, it’s as if no time has passed. It’s so easy. So natural. We just pick up where we left off. No excuses, no explanations. Just conversation, laughter, and stillness.

More than family – we are friends

I appreciate him so much. Yes, we’re cousins – but it feels like more than that. We are friends, the way true friends are. The kind that just know, without needing to say anything.

And his wife… She’s the kind of person who softens a room just by being there. Wise, thoughtful, always welcoming. I actually believe she’s always happy – or at least carries something bright within her.

When my mother passed away – after all the visits to the funeral home and the heavy things that come with death – there’s one moment from the funeral that still lives close to my heart. It was when my cousin’s wife hugged me. She held me for a long time and spoke words that carried weight. It was as if she took over a piece of my sorrow, just by being there with me in it. She said she understood how much it hurt. And I truly felt that she did.

Sometimes, when the memories come close, I still hold on to her words. They became a comfort I carry with me. That hug, her presence – it made a painful moment just a little easier to stand in. Because she understood. And sometimes, that’s all it takes.

Forty years together – and real love

Yesterday, we talked about relationships. I asked them what has made their love last so long. Forty years is a long time. They married young, and still they stand – side by side.

My wise cousin said something I’ve carried with me:

“We share common interests. And when the infatuation faded, a friendship grew – stronger than anything else.”

And I believe that is exactly what love is. Finding your very best friend. Someone who sees you. Someone who hears you. Someone who knows what you need – even before you realize it yourself. I believe true love is an invisible language we’re born with. It only begins to speak when we meet the right person.

And in my own relationship, we’ve come to notice something we believe is key to making it work. Even when we disagree or are a little grumpy with each other – we never say hurtful or ugly things. We just don’t. That kind of language doesn’t belong in a mature, loving relationship. Respect should remain, even when we’re irritated. It’s like we protect what we have – even in silence, in the small choices, in the tone we use.

Camping life, burgers bigger than heads – and a lakeside view that stays with you

This weekend in Marks Municipality has been absolutely beautiful. The campground is perfect for me. Close to the water, close to nature – and just a stone’s throw from my cousin’s seasonal caravan.

On Friday, we had dinner at the campground restaurant. The little one ordered a burger that might’ve been the biggest I’ve ever seen. I chose the entrecôte. And sure, the food was good – but that wasn’t what made the evening. It was the company. And the lake. We sat outside, looking out over the water. And in that moment, everything was just… good.

Homeward bound – or should we linger?

Today, we’re packing up. I don’t really know yet if we’ll head home or take another route. My husband wants to go home and edit his photos, and I can feel the pull of my own bed, my own shower, and coffee in my favorite cup at home.

The greenhouse might need a little care too. The harvest has truly begun. The tomatoes are waiting to be picked. And I’m craving a movie night – doing laundry, hanging clothes to dry, settling into the rhythm of home and just breathing on the patio.

What about you?

Do you have someone in your life who knows exactly what you need – even before you do? Do you believe, like I do, that love sometimes shows itself as friendship – and that it’s that form of love that lasts the longest?

Important to me

Writing feels important to me. I’ve started to see the thread that runs through my texts. This post highlights the importance of moving between sorrow and warmth in the moments we share. Life often reveals itself in the spaces between conversation and silence. The small things carry those moments. It might be a hug, a conversation – or simply a swim.

Reflection

We protect what we love – not just with grand gestures, but in the way we speak to each other, in how we listen, and in the choice to stay.
True love is heard in the silence between words.
Some people remain within us – not because we speak often, but because they held us when we needed it. That kind of closeness stays. Quiet. Steady. Forever.
Sometimes you are that person – even if you don’t realize it yourself.

Wisdom rests in what has been. The future holds its mysteries. But right here, in this moment – with everything we carry, everything we love – this is where truth lives.