December 17th, 1997

To mom with love

Hi mom.

I know you'll be reading this, so I thought I'd put some stuff in here that aren't too easy to say in words, at least not for me. After all you have formed me, and and least had a partial say in who I am today, and how I react to things.

I can't say that I ever got to learn how to take responsibility for myself, or take care of myself. You were always there to clean my room if I didn't do it, do the dishes, and all those little things that I now almost expect to happen by themselves, magically. They don't, of course, and I'm finally starting to learn that. It took me a good 24 years or so, though, and my roommate Bill helped a great deal, when he actually stood up and called the facts of life to my attention. Kitchens don't clean themselves, but that's how it appeared to me as I grew up, and that still lingers there in the background somewhere.

Well, that was one small whine, but apart from that little thing, I'd like to thank you for giving me some healthy basic views on the world, and allowing me to discover my own values and thoughts after that. You've always been there in the background, supporting me, even when you might not have thought you were, and for that I love you. (Hell, that's even hard to _type_ for a swede like me, and don't ask me to say it out loud.) But the bottom line is that, in spite of not having the greatest resources, and not being home all that much, you made me a basically good person, and I'm only now starting to realize that this is something pretty rare in this world, so I'm grateful for all that. If I ever have kids of my own I'll be happy if I do the parenting job half as well as you did. Merry christmas, mom, and I'll see you on the 24th.

Your son, Mats