I went home to spend some time with my mormor [grandma] this weekend, which was lovely as always. With our mixed language of Daneglish, we get along pretty well. We don't talk a lot, and that's okay. Neither of us feel the need to fill the silence when most are uncomfortable with it.
We laugh, we joke, we smile. We're getting to know each other little by little. Only getting to see her once a year for a month my entire life hasn't really given us the opportunity to really get to know one another.
Her house is the place I feel most at home. I have so many great memories from that place, reaching all the way back to being 3 years old.
Especially summertime. Those have always been glorious times.
Something about Denmark has always captured my heart, has always been a second home. As a child, I always wanted to marry a Dane and end up living here with my dream ranch with an endless amount of horses.
We went for a walk, mormor and I, in the woods by her house. I realized while we were walking that this was one of my favorite places on earth.