Today, on a crisp, achingly sunny day we attended a service to say farewell to one of our friends here, Per or as he was fondly known around the town, Danskan ("the Dane"). Per died a month ago in the sailing boat he was painstakingly building to take him on a voyage of discovery to warmer, southern lands. It feels sad that he will never realise that dream but it was heartening to see how much he will be missed by those who knew him.



Lars-Göran knew him first through the boat club when we moved here four years ago. He spoke to him casually and I was on nodding terms with him. We knew he was building a boat and he was always interested in new ideas and to talk about his project. I remained on nodding terms with him until about two years ago. I happened to be in the supermarket and found myself behind him in the queue at the checkout, where we said hello. When it was time for him to pay for his few groceries, he wanted to use a bonus cheque as part payment (it is a customer loyalty scheme run by this particular chain, where after buying goods to a certain amount, you get a bonus cheque to be spent in their shop). However, he did not have his membership card on him at the time, so the cashier refused the cheque. He fished around in his pockets, but was still a few dollars short, so I paid the difference, despite his protests. It was only a couple of dollars - hardly worth making a fuss over. I told him not to worry about it, but if he wanted to reimburse us, he would see Lars-Göran nearly every day at the club.

That seemed to have broken the ice between us and from then onwards, he always warmly greeted me and we talked quite a lot. He was originally from the Jylland region of Denmark, but had lived most of his adult life in Sweden, working on merchant ships and travelling the world. On his retirement, he decided to build a boat and sail to Spain to live. He was a warm, intelligent, hardworking and dedicated man with a ready smile for friends. In addition to his native Danish, he spoke fluent Swedish, English and Spanish and we had conversations about almost all subjects.

I remember when Australian-born Mary Donaldson became Crown Princess of Denmark upon her marriage to the Danish Crown Prince Frederik on May 14, 2004, Per was very excited and when I saw him in town, he hurried up to me beaming happily and declaring that "we are practically related now". I still smile when I think of him on that day.

So this morning, with the skies brilliant blue and cloudless, we made our way to the simple, but beautiful chapel in the Nynäshamn cemetery.




There is still a little snow lying around and the trees are bare which added to the bleakness of the day. It is unusual for me to attend a funeral so long after a death. In Australia, the custom is to bury fairly quickly - usually within a few days to a week. But here, it is always at least a month and in some cases many months between the death and final burial.

The service was simple and very moving, attended by family and friends. We first assembled in the meeting room across from the chapel, then the priest came and we followed him into the church. There were prayers, hymns and the priest spoke about Per's life. Then we were invited to come up to the coffin individually, to place on it a single flower we had brought with us and to say our own quiet goodbye. The most traditional flower for this in Sweden is a single red rose. This is also something very strange for me. We associate a red rose as gift one gives their lover, not as a flower for funerals. The most common flowers in Australia for such occasions are lilies (especially the arum and easter varieties) and the chrysanthemum (usually white). Once this was done, we all filed out of the church into the sunshine and offered condolences to his family. As we stepped out, a flock of seagulls flew overhead, gliding effortlessly on the thermal currents, piercing the silence with their cries. I can't help but think that Per would have approved of this.