Last Winter's Snow

by Hans M Hirschi

  Nilas was happy to be back in his native Gávtjávrrie. He enjoyed the rich cultural life of Gothenburg, with its famous philharmonic orchestra, the opera, theater and concerts, and their tours out into the archipelago to enjoy the fresh air by the sea. But this was where his heart truly belonged, always had and always would: the mountains, the forest, the animals, and his Sami heritage—to roam the land, drink from cold-water springs, fish for trout, and share his rich knowledge about Sami life with Casper.

  His family was glad to see them come home so often. And Nilas was happy that he and Casper had a place to come to, away from their house, where they were loved and respected for who they were. After that strange visit to Götene, they had never heard another word from Casper’s parents, and Casper was convinced they never would. He wasn’t even sure if his sister, who had always sided with her parents, would call him even if one of them passed away.

  Nilas knew how painful it was for Casper, to have lost his parents while they were still alive, and that he always remained hopeful. But he also knew that for his own sanity and his mental health, he couldn’t keep thinking about them. They were all adults, and they had to accept the consequences of the choices they made.

  This was one of the reasons why Nilas was so happy that his parents had accepted Casper from day one as one of their own, and they had never made him feel any different than Nilas, Anna, or Anders.

  Today, they stood on Njieries, or Näsberget, the local mountain standing proud above Gávtjávrrie. They had come up here, to celebrate the wedding. Catarina Emanuelsson, the chairperson of the one of the two Sameby—local Sami organizations—had volunteered to officiate their wedding. When the Swedish government had changed the law and allowed for gay couples to upgrade their partnerships to full-fledged marriages, couples were asked to contact the Swedish tax authority, which handled the country’s civil registry. However, even though the law went into effect May first, it would take months to get the change registered with the authorities, because the tax authority only had one month between the parliamentary landmark decision and the law coming into effect. For once, parliament was almost united, with the ayes carrying the vote with 229 to 22.

  The country had changed so much since that first, painfully long debate back in 1994. Now, fifteen years later, it was no longer something that needed a great many hours of debate. The country was ready, and the people, as well as most politicians, felt it was a given. Yes, there were still pockets of resistance, particularly among small orthodox religious groups, but even they knew that the winds of change had come to permanently change society.

  Nilas was proud as he stood next to his dashing husband to be married, again. Because even though, legally, they weren’t married yet, to them, they always had been. Even the public had changed the way they looked at these two different laws and had quickly given up making that distinction. Nilas thought back to the incident with their local paper in Gothenburg, and the fact that they had not been allowed to put their wedding announcement into the wedding section. Over the years following that refusal, he saw maybe one or two of those separate announcements appear, before the paper changed their policy. By the time the law changed, the country already had, and there was a sense of “finally!” and even “what? Hasn’t this been done already?” in the public’s minds.

  Here they stood, with their backs to the mountain range extending northwest behind them, with the mountain Skeäbllie towering tall and imposing in the distance, and Katarina standing in her traditional Sami garb in front of them. Around them stood Nilas’s parents, his sister and her family, and several close friends of the family.

  Nilas was wearing his traditional Sami garb, too, as was Casper. It had been a present of his in-laws, to make him feel a part of the family. It was a rare privilege for someone of non-Sami roots to be accepted like this, but since Nilas’s family had always been very active in the community, there was nothing to be discussed or debated, although there were most likely those wrinkling their noses. Casper was part of the family, a Sami family. Indeed, most of the people standing on Njieries on this sunny Sunday were wearing their traditional garments.

  As Katarina began to speak about the virtues of the couple and the sacred vows they were about to renew, Nilas felt his mind wander, like a kite, soaring high above the mountain, carried higher and higher by the summer upwinds, yet firmly tethered to the earth by the hand holding his. He listened to the words and distantly heard himself say “I do.” He heard Casper’s “I do, again!” but it wasn’t until Katarina spoke the final words “I now pronounce you husbands…again!” that he returned to himself, and turned to find Casper with tears flowing down his cheeks. He gently wiped them off before cupping Casper’s face and gently kissing him. “I love you, Casper Jonsson!”

  “I love you, too, beäjvviebájttuo!”

  Around them, people cheered, and the circle began to close in on them, tears of joy on Inga’s and Anna’s faces. Hugs were exchanged, hands shaken. After a while, they all began the walk down into the village, where a sumptuous lunch was awaiting them.

  Later that afternoon, Nilas and Casper took a long walk along the shores of Gávtjávrrie, or lake Gautsträsk as the Swedish call it, talking about the day, the experience on the mountain, the ceremony, and how it had differed from the first ceremony back in 1995.

  “I can’t believe it, we’re actually married, for real,” Nilas said.

  “Well, I feel we’ve been married for fourteen years already. They may not have called it that, but it doesn’t really matter, does it? Not to us. In our hearts, we knew. We always knew.”

  “I know, babe, I know. Yet still, to be able to do this. To have that recognition, at our age nonetheless…”

  “Hey, be careful. We’re in our best years…” Casper chuckled. He’d be forty-nine in a couple of months, pushing the big five-oh.

  “Did you think we’d still be together, after all these years, you know, when we first met?” Nilas asked.

  “You know, back then, I don’t think I looked this far ahead. I was just happy being with you. Not being alone anymore. I think I pretty much lived for the day. Getting through school, living my life. And when our friends began to die, when things were at their worst, I knew I could count on you. I knew I had you, my rock, always at my side. But did I picture myself a middle-aged man?” Casper shook his head.

  They didn’t say anything for a while, just walked in silence, taking in the beauty of the surrounding mountain region, the lake, and the fresh air.

  “You know,” Nilas said having long contemplated his words, “I always saw this image of you and me, really old, next to each other in our apartment in Stockholm, and later in our house. I still see us as really old men, and I know that as long as I can conjure up this picture, we are going to be together.”

  Casper took Nilas’s hand in his, smiling. “I like that thought. I may not look much into the future, not the way you do, apparently, but right now, I couldn’t bring myself to see my life without you in it, beäjvviebájttuo. You are the first thing I hear when I wake up, usually also the first thing I see, the first person to speak to me, or the first person I talk to. You’re the last thing I see before I fall asleep, the last person I hear, and the last one I talk to. And that is exactly as it should be.”

  * * * * *

  2010

  Son, It’s Your Mother…

  Nilas was working from home. It was late fall, a typical rainy and windy November day in Gothenburg. Casper was in Stockholm for the day, in negotiations with his publisher about a new film project based on one of his books. In a couple of days, it would be Casper’s fiftieth birthday. Nilas had planned on taking the weekend off, just the two of them, to fly to Paris for a romantic getaway. It was a surprise for Casper. He knew that Casper wasn’t interested in a big party, and despite numerous calls and inquiries from the publisher, the film studio, producers, old students, and former colleagues at the university—even their family—Nilas knew that Casper would hat
e any surprise parties. It just wasn’t who he was.

  Had it been ten years earlier, he might have considered taking out an ad in the paper, a thanks-but-no-thanks kind of advertisement, politely telling people not to congratulate Casper on his half-century. But since hardly anyone read newspapers anymore, why bother?

  Instead, Nilas politely answered all calls and e-mails, and explained that Casper just wasn’t having any of it. When the phone rang again, Nilas immediately recognized the number. Interesting; they haven’t called since that fateful visit. He picked up and replied, “This is Nilas speaking.”

  A coarse voice on the other end was heard through the receiver. “Hello, Nilas. This is Roland. Is Casper home?”

  “Hello, Roland. No, he’s not. He’s away on business, but should be back later tonight. Say, after eight o’clock? Is there anything you want me to pass on to him?”

  There was a moment of silence, and then something that sounded like crying on the other end. Nilas got worried. “Is everything okay?”

  Finally, a response: “No, it’s not. It’s Casper’s mother. She passed away a couple of hours ago. Would you please ask Casper to call home?”

  Nilas was stunned. “Yes, of course. I’m so sorry, Roland. My sincere condolences on your loss. I’ll make sure he calls you as soon as possible.” He heard the click on the other end. Roland had hung up on him, again. Not the first time. And again without saying good-bye or even a thank-you. Under the circumstances, Nilas was inclined to forgive the man, but it still stung.

  He immediately called Casper.

  “Hello, beäjvviebájttuo!” Casper answered happily.

  “Babe, listen, I’ve got bad news. Your dad just called. It’s your mother. She’s passed away. You need to call him.”

  There was nothing but silence on the other end. Nilas could hear Casper’s breathing, but he said nothing. “Babe, are you okay? I’m so sorry for your loss, and springing it on you like that, but I thought you’d want to know right away. I love you.”

  Nilas could hear deep breathing on the other end, before Casper spoke. “It’s okay, Nilas. I’m glad you called. And I appreciate how difficult it must be to place such a call. I’ll call Dad right away. See you in a couple of hours. We just passed Hallsberg.”

  “I love you.” Nilas hung up. Next, he called his credit card company, to check on the possibility of canceling their trip. He had a feeling Casper wouldn’t want to go anywhere, not now, not after his mother’s death.

  ***

  When Casper walked through the doors a couple of hours later, Nilas sprang up and ran to greet him, not saying a word, simply taking him in his arms and holding him, as Casper came undone, mourning the loss of his mother and the relationship he had lost all those years ago. When he finally calmed down and the first wave of tears had subsided, Nilas helped him take off his coat and shoes and led him into their living room.

  “Can I get you anything? A cognac, maybe?”

  Casper nodded quietly, while Nilas walked over to the cupboard where they stored their limited but delicious liquors. He poured a generous amount of cognac into one of their crystal tulip glasses, which they had purchased specifically for the king of brandies.

  “Here, take a sip.” Nilas handed him the glass. “Did you get to talk to your father?”

  Casper nodded, smelling the cognac, taking in the various vapors of the drink before taking a sip. “Yes, it was one of the weirder conversations I’ve had with him. He seems so lost without her. She was always the dominant part of their relationship, and without her, he seems almost unable to think.” New sobs shook his body, and fresh tears rolled down his cheeks as he looked up at Nilas.

  “Does he know what happened? Was she ill?”

  Casper shook his head. “Not that he knew of. Apparently, she just collapsed in the kitchen after lunch. The paramedics were called, but couldn’t resuscitate her. I guess an autopsy will provide more information.”

  “Wow. I’m so sorry. Are you going up there?”

  “You’re not coming with me?” There was a mixture of fear and surprise dancing across Casper’s face.

  “Of course I will, if you think that’s wise. I’m just not sure how welcome I am, is all.” Nilas really wasn’t sure if either of them would be welcome up there, given their last experience. But he kept that to himself.

  “Dad wanted me to come.” Casper shrugged. “He didn’t mention you couldn’t, or shouldn’t. Besides, I think he understands by now that we come as a package deal. We’ve been down this road before, beäjvviebájttuo, and I just won’t go if they’re not welcoming you.”

  “I know, babe, I know, but on the other hand, I wouldn’t want to make this very tense situation even worse. If they really have such a hard time with me and you, maybe this is the situation that warrants an exception?”

  Casper shot him one of his looks, the “don’t go there” type.

  “Let me rephrase.” Nilas tried again. “Whatever you decide in this instance is fine with me. I’m your husband, I’ll stand by your side, no matter what you think is best.”

  “Then it’s settled. We’re both going, and if they have an issue with it, we’ll leave,” Casper replied forcefully, taking a large gulp from his cognac.

  “You know you might potentially miss her funeral with this attitude?”

  Casper shrugged, finishing his cognac. “Listen, beäjvviebájttuo, I haven’t had a relationship with my parents for such a long time that it really doesn’t matter if I’m there at the funeral or not. She’s dead, and any chance at a reconciliation has died with her. But maybe there is hope with my dad, you know? If I show up there by myself, they’ll think they’ve finally won. And that’s not the message I want to convey.”

  Nilas nodded. “I understand, but this isn’t a competition. It’s not a contest of wills. This is your family, your dad, your mother, and your sister we’re talking about.”

  Casper sighed deeply. “I know that, but I’m also not entirely sure if you understand. Your parents have always been at your side, always supported you, always loving you, unconditionally.”

  Nilas knew that Casper had a point. He really didn’t know what it meant to not be accepted by his own parents.

  “I used to be really close to my parents. Yes, they were conservative and religious, but we were close. I grew up in a loving home. There were hugs and smiles, and there was always laughter. Our house was always inviting and the door was always open. Both my sister and I would bring friends home to play and to do homework, and my mom would always be the perfect hostess, baking, bringing us juice. All my friends preferred to hang out at our house, just because it was such a happy place.

  “All of that changed, and I literally mean all of it, after I came out. Mom stopped smiling, from one day to the next, and suddenly our house turned cold and hostile. Within an hour of my announcement, it went from happy to miserable. You have no idea how relieved I was when I finally got to go back to Stockholm and you.”

  “You’re right, babe, I can’t imagine. You obviously know that my parents are very different.”

  “And I love them dearly for it. It’s just that when you realize that your own parents don’t really love you,” Casper pointed with his index finger to his own chest, “when they love an image of you, some idealized, non-existent version of you, an illusion, that is the most painful realization anyone could make. I was so young, beäjvviebájttuo, when I realized that my parents didn’t really love me. And that is a feeling I don’t wish on anyone. I’m only glad I was an adult, not living there anymore, and that I had you. It took me a long time to realize that it wasn’t me who was broken, but my parents’ values. And I finally got to the point where I wouldn’t let those values get to me anymore, where their hatred of who I really was, wasn’t going to affect how I live my life anymore. It still hurts, mind you. It still hurts. Probably always will.

  “You’re right, though. This isn’t about winning. But it’s about me having to stay true to who I am, and
I’m not going to sacrifice what you and I have worked so hard for. I won’t allow anyone to just strike out twenty-eight years of my existence. Do you understand that? If that means that I won’t be allowed to go to Mom’s funeral, so be it. That’s one hour of my life. It is irrelevant compared to what you and I have.” Casper pointed between his chest and Nilas’s.

  It was the last thing they said about the topic that night, although Nilas knew it continued to occupy both of their minds. He also noticed how badly and uneasily Casper slept that night, tossing and turning for a long time, waking Nilas up again, and again.

  ***

  “No, I will not let Mom’s final memorial be soiled by the presence of these abominations. Under no circumstance. Dad, please tell me you won’t let them attend, because if you do, I won’t. It’s either them or me. You choose!” Elisabeth was livid, and her voice was almost a falsetto.

  “Calm down, sis!” Casper hissed. “What’s the matter with you? This is Mom’s funeral. She was my mother, just as much as she was yours. Why shouldn’t we be allowed to attend?”

  “Oh, you’re just precious! This is all your fault, you do know that, right?” Casper’s sister had worked herself into a veritable rage, and Nilas just watched on as she’d stood up in the funeral home, pointing a finger at Casper. “First, you break her heart by defiling everything she taught you, all the moral values she had instilled in you, going against everything God and nature teach is good and holy, by…by…” She glanced over at Nilas, and her contorted face took on a look of utter disgust and contempt. “By being with this abomination here. Becoming an abomination in the eyes of God.

  “You are disgusting, and when Mom and Dad tried to invite you, bring you into their home, you had nothing better to do than defile their house with him?” She almost screamed the last word, her nose so close to Casper’s she almost touched it while pointing with her arm at Nilas. “You broke Mom’s heart, that’s why she’s dead. It’s your fault, and I never want to see either of you again.” She began to sob and stormed out of the office of the funeral home’s director, where they were planning for Eva’s funeral.