As the rain paused for a while today, I decided to take the occasion to get dressed in my gothic best and go visit the nearest cemetery to remember dad by. The Malmi cemetery is the largest in Helsinki, so I was a little dismayed to discover that the cemetery maps gave no clue to the location of a memorial for the elsewhere buried. I ended up walking around in random, enjoying the quiet and the pleasant scent of the large fir trees lining the myriad pathways and letting the tears come as they wanted. Eventually, I decided that should I fail to find the memorial, I would find a nice nook somewhere to leave my little rememberance offering… I saw no one else around, so when I finally spotted a lady parking her car close by, I hurried over to ask her if she knew of a memorial spot at the cemetery. She didn’t, but she was very nice and invited me to “use” the grave of her husband, since it’s really the thought that counts. I wasn’t going to accept her offer because it didn’t seem right, but I followed her to the urn-grave anyway.
And in large letters, the top of the gravestone said: TOIVOLA.
I left my gift on the grave of Tuula Toivola’s husband, who had drowned while skiing on the ice at Vuosaari on Christmas eve eight years ago.