At the be­gin­ning of the first de­ca­de the fledg­ling buil­ders with their yo­uth­ful dre­ams be­gan to work on their first nest. They had their first child­ren; there were more things to wor­ry about but al­so more joy.

They saw their baby’s first smile, first tooth and first steps. They got to know about ma­ter­ni­ty cli­nics, mid­wi­ves, fus­sy ba­bies, sleep­less nights, co­lic and ear in­fec­ti­ons. The ol­der child­ren star­ted school and their li­fe­long path of le­ar­ning.

They soon nee­ded a big­ger home with a high roof and stur­dy wal­ls. They hung up on their wall this ap­ho­rism: “Con­tent­ment li­ves a hap­py home.”

These are the me­mo­ries I have of the first de­ca­de of our mar­ri­a­ge, when our yo­ung fa­mi­ly’s life gra­du­al­ly took its shape. It was in many ways a time of le­ar­ning.

The se­cond de­ca­de brought in fast-pa­ced ac­ti­on and big­ger risks. We got to know about tree­tops, huts in the woods and neigh­bors’ door­bel­ls. Hoc­key, ball ga­mes, ber­ry-pic­king trips and even some ho­li­day tra­vel; we re­mem­ber fond­ly those ti­mes.

Home was busy like a rail­way sta­ti­on with pe­op­le were co­ming and going. There was a baby, there were ter­rib­le twos and teens, there were yo­ung adults. There were pe­op­le laug­hing and crying, wan­ting to be held and down in the dumps, ti­red, hung­ry, re­a­ding and run­ning. Love and joy.

Then came the re­al­ly busy de­ca­de with con­fir­ma­ti­on camps, opis­to ye­ars, trade school and high school.

This was a de­ca­de of chan­ge. The ol­dest child­ren mo­ved away from home, and we had new girlf­riends and bo­yf­riends vi­si­ting. We felt a bit ti­mid and ner­vous, but most­ly hap­py about the new pe­op­le. Wel­co­me in­to Kum­pu­la fa­mi­ly!

We al­so mo­ved our home nest in­to a new lo­ca­li­ty. We found a new home zion and new friends. We were re­min­ded about the bre­vi­ty of life and ex­pe­rien­ced fe­ars of loss. Our yo­un­gest child was born, and we had our first grandc­hild. We re­ac­hed the sta­tus of grand­pa­rents, which was so­met­hing we had been loo­king for­ward to.

The fourth de­ca­de was full of plan­ning and adap­ta­ti­on. Even our yo­un­ger child­ren were buil­ding their own nests. There were many oc­ca­si­ons for ce­leb­ra­ti­on throug­hout the ye­ar: con­fir­ma­ti­ons, en­ga­ge­ments, wed­dings, bap­tisms, birth­da­ys, school clo­sing ce­re­mo­nies and gra­du­a­ti­ons.

Alt­hough there were fe­wer in­ha­bi­tants in the home nest, the ex­ten­ded fa­mi­ly con­ti­nu­ed to grow. There were many things to be gra­te­ful for, a lot of joy and hap­pi­ness, a lot of love. Hands were still of­ten joi­ned in thanks­gi­ving and pra­yer.

We had en­te­red a stage of life where we as­ked our­sel­ves: are the busy ye­ars of life re­al­ly be­hind us?

We are now be­gin­ning our fifth de­ca­de to­get­her. The home nest has two in­ha­bi­tants, neit­her of whom have yo­uth­ful dre­ams any more. We have rich me­mo­ries of our past life, and we are fee­ling our way in­to unk­nown fu­tu­re. Would it be pos­sib­le to at­tend all the spe­ci­al ser­vi­ces next sum­mer, pos­sib­ly even in Swe­den? What could we plan for the co­ming win­ter?

It is safe to plan kno­wing that things will go the way they are me­ant to go. We have anot­her ap­ho­rism han­ging on our wall: ”The best days of yo­ur life are here and now. Live them ful­ly, and you will re­mem­ber them al­wa­ys.”

God,

you knew

the time and place of my birth.

You will gui­de our li­ves

in the play of child­ren

in the whirl­winds of yo­uth

in adult­hood.

God,

you sho­wed me

my tasks and du­ties.

You gave me a spou­se,

child­ren and home.

All things are gifts from you.

God,

you bless us

in yo­ur king­dom.

You com­fort us with yo­ur grace

and sup­port us with yo­ur word.

Text: Vesa Kum­pu­la

Trans­la­ti­on: Sirk­ka-Lii­sa Lei­no­nen

you will find the ori­gi­nal blog post here.