Lahja Söderberg.

My mummo passed away last week, and I'm in Canada for the funeral.

In fact, she's sitting in a jar next to me right now in a velvet bag. I'm trying not to look at it too much.

It's funny how much you learn about a loved one when they pass. I was very proud of the life she lived and the lives she touched after her 96 years. Imagine living through countless wars, failed promises and dance crazes. Friends with welled eyes recalled stories of her wrestling in Finland, her lime green Mustang with white leather interior, her repeated marriage proposals from gruff miners, and all of her fire and brimstone in South Porcupine, Ontario. Most of the service was in Finnish, and if you think Finns are dark, check out a funeral. It felt like a David Lynch film, only harder to follow the plot.

If any good had to come of this it's that we reconnected with my mom's brother, his wife, and four kids. Losing a family member swelled our family significantly. I have cousins who look like me, who have similar tastes in wine, women and song. Cousin Carl even likes Arrested Development.

If anyone actually reads this thing, I've copied a section of the eulogy I delivered. It was one of the hardest things I've ever had to do.

"Lahja Soderberg has been old as long as I can remember, but never in spirit. Though separated in these last few years by a continent, our mummo has never been far from our thoughts and our hearts.

Mummo left her native Finland at the age of 18. She arrived in this country on the day of her 19th birthday, dragging meager suitcase and new hope. She wanted a new start in the new world, a place where she could begin again and truly create something. Myself, my brother, my sister, my cousins, my entire family live as the next chapters of this beginning. She came a long way for a new life on a voyage we can't even fathom. She crossed oceans of fear, of uncertainty, and of exhaustion, with few possessions and bigger dreams.
Such voyages no longer exist in this world. But instead, live inside of us as we carry on our lives, here in Canada.

To me, Lahja Soderberg was the perpetual chaser. I was a nightmare as a child. She was the braider and baker of pulla, the matriarch with the funny accent, and the singer of hilarious Finnish children's rhymes about flatulent dogs. I used to play with the flubby skin on her arms that made her laugh and her eyes crinkle. Her eyes were always crinkly.

A little old lady with the fire of heaven, Mummo lived a truly remarkable life. I have always been proud of what she has accomplished here with us, with her works. I hope that in 75 years I can look back upon the creation of a dynasty, the generations of blondes in my wake the way I hope she did in her last days. I hope one day to have a family of my own, carrying on her voyage in their hearts.

Mummo, we love you, and you will be missed, everyday."

I really hope she's somewhere else, other than in this velvet bag in the livingroom. Tell your grandparents you love them.