May 6, Gothenburg. Surprised that it got dark during the flight, but it’s also a month and a half until summer solstice. My eyes are burning from lack of sleep. Surprised how the kids are happy to see me – my son, at least, runs fifty yards toward me. At dinner, my daughter starts imitating me (“Hm.”), then I’m supposed to imitate her, then my son. Before bedtime, we go shopping together.

Is it possible to admire a time while living in it as if you had just lost it?