Etikett: grandmother

Autumn Day of Stillness – Rain and Love in Everyday Life

Autumn day of stillness – rain and love. Early morning coffee, a gentle candle flame and memories of grandmother and great-grandmother set the tone for a day filled with quiet reflection and everyday warmth.

Read this post in Swedish ->Höstdag i stillhet – regn och kärlek i vardagen

Morning light and a quiet start

Autumn day of stillness – rain and love frames my early morning. It is 5:22 a.m. when the coffee sends up its fresh aroma and warms my hands as I write. I have lit my grandmother’s wall lamps on her small sideboard where photographs of the grandchildren stand. The soft glow falls across their faces, as if the furniture itself wants to watch over those we love.
Beside the lamps, a small live candle burns gently. Its steady flame keeps me company and adds warmth to the dark dawn.

Autumn day of stillness – rain and love. Grandmother’s and great-grandmother’s sideboard glowing with candlelight and family photos.
Grandmother’s and great-grandmother’s sideboard with family memories and warm light.

Inside this sideboard my grandmother and great-grandmother meet. In life they never fully agreed, yet here they rest side by side. My grandmother’s little ornaments remind me of her, and between them lie my daughter’s drawings and family photos. This also brings back memories of my great-grandmother’s own sideboard – with a big clock that chimed every half and full hour and photographs of her children and grandchildren.

This morning it feels clear: both of these women live on in me. Two strong, loving presences whose memory deepens my day.

The cat has already slipped out into the darkness. Because more rain is expected, we may choose to stay home. We had first thought of a weekend trip with the motorhome, but a rainy weekend feels less inviting. Instead, it seems wiser to settle into autumn at home – stocking up on candles, cooking food that smells of comfort, and perhaps lighting the first fire of the term in the wood-burning stove.


Autumn day of stillness – rain and a rhythm of care

Yesterday unfolded at the gentle pace that only rain can bring.
Our little one came home in the middle of the school day – soaked from recess – to change clothes. We laughed at how wet they were, wetter than after any washing machine cycle. So we put them in a bucket to drip dry, and then he returned to school warm and dry again.

It felt precious to welcome him home, even for a brief moment. Such everyday care carries so much love.


A city errand and hidden stories

Later we drove into town. He had things to do, and I used the time to enjoy a sunbed and pick up groceries. When I was done, he still wasn’t finished.
Therefore I stopped, hungry, at Charli Chaplin for a kebab plate. It was edible but far from memorable. Having once run a small food stand myself, I could taste potatoes that had stayed too long in the warmer, meat past its peak and watery tomatoes.

While waiting, I sat in the car knitting and watching people move at their own speed. An elderly lady parked in front of me and then drove away. I wondered: When I reach her age, will I still dare to drive? What does her day look like, and who waits for her at home?

Right there, in the quiet of the car, a feeling of tenderness for all the stories of life opened up – the ones we know and the ones we can only guess at. Every person carries a story, in both light and shadow, and simply telling it has its own worth.


Autumn day of stillness – when sorrow makes room for love

Often when I write, a note of sorrow slips in. Perhaps because sorrow is always nearby – a gentle background between chaos and order.
My own sorrow at feeling set aside sometimes stirs. It cuts and hurts, but I let it guide neither day nor heart. Some days are heavy, yet more and more often I return to this truth:
another person’s actions can never measure my worth.

And within that sorrow lives so much love – for my grandchildren, and for our little one who is learning to trust. He knows that when things do not turn out as planned, he can always come home. When he says, “Carina, we need to talk,” I hear a longing for comfort and warmth. He wants to feel that someone listens and understands, someone who stands on his side and can say:
“It’s okay, I hear you. You wished for something else, or you feel… You need this moment. Sometimes life is like that. We will find a way together.”

That love – to truly be there and to listen – carries me through the days.


Between the lines – my voice

This post speaks about letting love hold steady even while sorrow remains. It is about carrying one’s roots in the heart – grandmother and great-grandmother, their scents and memories – and about passing the same warmth to the next generation.


AHA – between the lines

In the simple things hides the depth of life: cooling coffee, a bucket of wet clothes, an old sideboard and a small candle. Each shows how love moves silently through generations, enriching even rainy days.


Your Voice: Between the Lines

Between the lines is an invitation:
Pause. Breathe in the coffee’s aroma. Remember those who carry you. Allow joy and sorrow to share the same space.
It whispers that none of us must walk alone through life’s shifting seasons.


FAQ text – Autumn day of stillness

This post belongs to the collection Reflection & Self-Healing.
Here I gather writings on how to meet life when it holds both sorrow and love, how to find calm in everyday moments, and how to carry memories forward through generations.

Questions for you, dear reader

  • How do you find calm on a rainy day?
  • Which women or ancestors do you carry with you in your heart?
  • How do you offer comfort when someone says, “We need to talk”?

Reflection

Yesterday’s rain offered a slow rhythm. This morning I feel gratitude for quiet moments, for my family, and for the women who showed me that love is something you carry within – never something that runs out.

Yesterday has already found rest in history, tomorrow waits ahead. But right now – this is where life happens.


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Blogging Development and Writing. What August Taught Me

Welcome here! In this post I share something I rarely do – I look back at the blog’s numbers. For me it’s not about the numbers themselves, but about blogging development and writing: what the statistics reveal about which themes resonate and how the blog is growing.

Read this in Swedish ->Bloggutveckling och skrivande – vad statistiken lärde mig i augusti


Blogging development and writing in practice

I don’t write for numbers. Yet numbers can tell a story – they can reflect where my voice carries, which themes touch readers, and how the blog keeps moving forward. Looking at August, I don’t just see charts and percentages. I see stories about writing.


When the Oskar series was read – in Sweden and beyond

During August, the Oskar series climbed to the top. Posts about motivation, daily form, and even the struggle of tying shoelaces became the most read.

It warmed my heart to see that these posts mattered, because the subject is so important. We often say: “There’s at least one child in every class.” There is so much here that can make a difference.

Perhaps my words don’t immediately change classroom situations – change takes time. But maybe they planted a seed, sparked a new thought, or gave someone something to carry with them for a while.

Reflection and blogging development and writing through emotions and everyday life
Reflection and blogging development and writing through emotions and everyday lifeReflektion och bloggutveckling och skrivande genom känslor och vardag

This tells me I must keep writing about Oskar. The topic has so many vital parts: the children themselves, their parents, their teachers, and everyone around them. For example: why isn’t Oskar invited to birthday parties? Why do parent-teacher conferences become something no one looks forward to?


Grandmother, emotions, and relationships

One of the most read posts was about being a grandmother. This shows that the most personal and emotional posts touch readers deeply. When I dare to write from the heart, the words find their way.

For me, the grandmother role holds both love and pain. Writing about it reveals I’m not alone. Somewhere out there, someone recognizes the loneliness and grief of not being able to see their grandchildren.

This needs to be voiced. Not to shift responsibility, but to lift the shame from the feelings. It hurts every day, yet it’s important to share. Important to live life, even when there’s no place for me as a grandmother right now.

Every day I think of my grandchildren. How are they doing? Do they believe I’ve forgotten them? Do they know I love them even if we don’t meet?

I wish life looked different. Maybe it never will. All I can hope for is that one day they will know – the love was always there.


Motorhome life as everyday joy

My journeys with our motorhome LVL² return again and again among the most read posts.

Motorhome life and blogging development and writing – freedom on wheels

Motorhome life and blogging development and writing – freedom on wheels

Motorhome life is freedom. You can stop wherever you are, and the endless chores disappear. You can’t spend hours cleaning a motorhome – it’s done quickly. That leaves time for reflection and relationships, which brings me peace.

Right now, at the end of the season, I feel both anxiety and calm. Anxiety that it’s ending soon. Calm, because the motorhome gives me a break from daily life. And also calm in knowing that soon it will be candlelight season at home, with the fire burning in the stove, and cozy evenings returning.

Maybe it’s recognition that makes others read. Maybe it’s the dream of freedom. Either way, I’m glad these posts come alive, because many of my words are born on our trips.


Blogging development and writing.
The blog began speaking two languages

One of the biggest surprises was that the USA suddenly surpassed Sweden in traffic. English versions of my texts opened doors to an entirely new audience.

It really started with my husband. He asked: “Why don’t you write in English too?” I thought: “Yes, why don’t I?” I tried once, then again – and now it’s become a habit.

That readers in the US actually follow along feels amazing. At the same time, I wonder what they find here that’s meaningful to them.

Writing in English didn’t just become a technical shift – it became an opening to the world.


Blogging development and writing

Statistics are more than numbers – they’re a mirror of where my writing truly connects.

  • When I write close to the heart, I get the most clicks.
  • When I share everyday life, readers return.
  • When I dare to open up in English, the audience grows beyond Sweden.

Perhaps this is what blogging development is really about. Not chasing trends, but seeing where I am most true.


Reflection

August taught me that blogging development and writing is not either/or – everyday life, travels, emotions, and NPF (neurodivergence) all belong side by side. It’s the mix that gives the blog its strength.

I’ve never seen myself as someone who can read statistics. For me, they’ve always been numbers speaking another language. But maybe these numbers can help me grow.

I’ve learned something new these past months. When I nerd down into the blog, when I dare to try new things – that’s when I develop. Keywords, transition words, and SEO used to feel boring. Now, strangely enough, I find them almost fun.

For me, blogging development and writing is not about chasing numbers – it’s about being true to myself and letting the words find their way.

But I don’t chase numbers. I write because I can, and because I want to.


Between the lines – my voice

This post isn’t really about statistics. It’s about me. About how I use every experience – even charts and percentages – to understand life and writing more deeply.

Between the lines I’m saying: I’m on my way. I’m growing. And I’m sharing that journey with you.


AHA – between the lines

Statistics can be more than numbers. When I view them through the heart, they become a map of where my words find home.

What grows most in reader numbers is also what grows most in me: the courage to write about Oskar, the pain and love of being a grandmother, the freedom of motorhome life, and the step into English.


Question to you as a reader

What in your life would you write about – even if you didn’t know whether anyone would read it?


FAQ – Blogging Development and Writing

? What does blogging development mean?
Blogging development is about following your own journey as a writer and seeing how the blog grows through content, structure, and the meeting with readers.

? Do you need to understand statistics to develop your blog?
No, but statistics can provide insights. They show which posts touch readers most and where they find their way to your writing.

? What is most important for a blog to grow?
Writing close to the heart, daring to be personal, and also thinking about readability – like headings, clear structure, and SEO.


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Höstbild från Kungshamn.

“Live today, right now. Yesterday rests in history, and tomorrow waits out there in the distance. Right now is what matters.” – Carina Ikonen Nilsson


When You’re Cut Off as a Grandmother – A Quiet Grief That Stays

Read this post in Swedish

Preface
This post is about the late summer slowly approaching, about motorhome life, and about carrying both joy and longing at the same time.
It’s about missing grandchildren, about living with distance in the family – and about love that remains even when paths separate.


When Summer Begins to Fade

Here I am again, in our motorhome. I write as I usually do, but the feeling is different now.
It’s no longer the sparkling energy of spring. Summer is beginning to retreat, even if I don’t want to admit it.
The truth is: we are closer to autumn than to the full bloom of summer.

Autumn can be beautiful in its own way, but I miss those warm evenings that invite quiet joy.
Still, summer is not over yet. There are days left to live, and I remind myself not to give up on them too soon.


An Unexpected Visit and a Quiet Thought

We will stay here at the campsite for another day.
Today I learned that my husband’s brother will visit – a little surprise. It will be nice to meet him.

Yet, other thoughts swirl quietly in the background.

On Instagram, I saw photos of my grandchildren, happy and full of life.
I smiled seeing them laugh, yet my heart felt a small ache.
These are the moments I long to share – but for now, I am a grandmother at a distance.

Sometimes it feels as if the world keeps moving without me.
Life doesn’t always turn out as we wish, but the longing is still there.
Hugo has grown taller, Emilia looks ready to conquer the world, and Alfred I sometimes get to hold close when life allows it.

What carries me is love – it remains, even when I must love from afar.


A Mother’s Love Never Ends

There is nothing I can do to change the situation right now.
All I can do is keep wishing them happiness.

My greatest hope is not for life to go back to the way it was, but for everyone to be well.
I hope my son has a life where he can breathe, laugh, and feel that he chose what was best for him and his children.

I am his mother, and I love him more than words can hold.
That love remains, no matter the distance.


Between the Lines – My Voice

Between the lines, I want to say this:

I am a mother and grandmother carrying both pain and love in the same breath.
I do not shy away from what hurts, but I do not write out of bitterness.
I write to understand, to remain standing, and to keep loving.

And perhaps I also write for you who recognize yourself in these words.
We are more than one carrying this quiet sorrow.
We carry it together – even if we carry it apart.


Reflection

Sometimes, life is about daring to stand in love, even when it is not returned.
I cannot control other people’s choices, but I can choose to keep loving my grandchildren – quietly, from the heart, at a distance.
And maybe, that is enough until the day our paths meet again.

Grief follows no rules. There is no manual for how to handle being cut off .
But it is possible to keep loving, even when the relationship is broken.
To stand in love, even when you get nothing in return.
It’s possible to love – even when love becomes a one-way street.

”Yesterday has already laid itself to rest in history. Tomorrow waits ahead. But right now – this is where life is happening.”
– Carina Ikonen Nilsson

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