Missing

I am thinking about the parents of the 11-year-old that went missing after the terrorist attack on Drottninggatan, Stockholm, Sweden. The girl later on turned up as one of the dead victims.

My partners grandparent went missing. It deviated from the hospital, when it was supposed to get treatment. It had a fever and was sick. When it didn’t turn up at home, relatives started missing it. We had a  whole search party out looking for my partners grandparent. Even though Missing people tried to help us find it, they never did. I also went looking, my friend too. I even got a dog that can sniff living people to help in searching. I think we did everything we could. The police only had dogs that could find dead people available.

It was strange, having a  relative disappear like that. Many months later a mushroom picker found the grandparent in the woods. There it was, laying under the tree, as if it had laid down to take a nap, but never woke up again. Most likely it got diabetes coma and died there, free under the tree in the woods, where it loved to be.

But I know what it does to you when someone you know goes missing. My partners grandparent turned up dead. So did this little girl. Even though it might not be comfortable news for someone to turn up dead, it is way much better than going missing in action. It was so strange.

My partners parent is dead, therefore we inherited the grandparent. But first we couldn’t do anything when the person was missing. So we kept the apartment and so, hoping it would turn up. So it was a good thing, it turning up. Then we could have closure to it all. We could lay it down to rest. Now my partners both grandparents and parent as in the same place. So now they are a small family there, a place my partner can visit, when it feels it has to.

Life is full of these things. My life especially. I have had a strange life. But I haven’t even told you a small piece of it.

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