V

As Grandpa’s war library expands, Gran engages in various community courses in the village thirty kilometres away, until the snow makes the roads impassable after dark. ‘There’s a lot of darkness in the Nordic winter,’ Gran admits in a rare moment of despair. Already an expert at knitting, crocheting and embroidery, she learns to make delicate Brussels lace and paints dainty flowers on gold-rimmed porcelain cups, cups we will treasure long after she’s gone. Lace adorns all her handicraft this season, from embroidered linen tablecloths to skirts and blouses. Only the boys escape unscathed. When we wish to do something for her in return, she says, ‘I haven’t been in the city for some time. Take me out for a pizza.’ Knowing that Grandpa is a potato-fish-and-hard-rye-bread kind of man, we oblige. She sighs and page 102 purrs with pleasure as she indulges in Italian fare surrounded by the buzz of Tampere city. The Italian restaurant owner pours her Chianti and kisses her hand. ‘And what’s for dessert?’ she replies, starry-eyed like a teenager.