www.davidhegg.info

153. 1962

Now I have got an understanding about my mother’s mother, who I have written about in the text “A sequence” from February 14, 2016, under the upper link on the website, “Important”. I also had this in my mind when I placed a photograph under the upper link “Messages”, “2015 ‐ 11” (Messages 11), in the text “Monday, July 27, 2015”. Monday, July 27, 2015; I hadn’t remembered enough correct about this. But the picture is correct. The picture is from the birthday party in 1962, together with my friend and another child in the neighborhood. They stand beside me when the photograph are photographed. Now I remember enough correct about this.

I have got an understanding about that my mother’s mother was under control of figuring things to herself. She had wrong ideas about different things, which wasn’t based on knowledge and understanding. These illusions were only fantasies without basis in the reality.

Something very important is that these episodes I write about here, only are a few glimpses from the time I had together with my mother’s mother. Together this all in all is a few minutes of this long period I had together with my mother’s mother. The time she talked about such things; is only a few minutes, of many years I was together with here. She didn’t talk about this again and again, and more and more. This was only a few isolated episodes. All her life she always was a very kind and helpful person to everyone around her. After I had written this text, I became sure about that it is such influences by the criminals, which have caused this in one way or another.

Such influences typical works in a way, which the influenced people don’t understand themselves. That is also how it was with my mother’s mother. She never wanted to do something bad against others. She always wanted to be kind to others. Something had happened with her, which she didn’t understand herself. I wonder if there can be general systematic influences, done against my mother’s mother, long before I first met her, but I don’t know.

For me, this got a catastrophic impact on me. But I didn’t understand about it, and forgot it immediately the same time as it happened. My mother’s mother didn’t talk about this as a person do, about something the person care about and want to talk more about etc. It was only some few short moments. What my mother’s mother showed interest for, were different things she liked to talk much about, year after year. What I write about here, was something she didn’t show that kind of interest for at all. It happened in some short moments, and disappeared again afterwards. It wasn’t these things she was taken up with at all. It was other things she showed interest for, and talked about again and again, year after year.

If the criminals hadn’t done what they are doing, then nothing of this had ever happened. There is clearly something suspicious with this, in relation to that.

These influences are something foreign in humans, something others have done by tricking them. When we have started to understand about this, then we can understand more and more about what this is. To give a figurative description, it can be possible to say; that if we don’t stop arguing as these criminals influence us to do, then we in the end can agree about, that everything has become something we don’t like. But then; the criminals have falsified everything, so we can’t find out about it and understand it. Today it still is possible to find out about this, and understand what the criminals have done and still are doing. The criminals want to have a hidden falsified control over the majority of the people around them.

▪

In the summer 1962, when I was seven years old, something happened which ruined much for me. It has to do with my mother’s mother. Here I will write a shortened description about that. All the years since 1962 until quite recently, this has been 100% away in my conscious mind.

The first I remember about this, must has happened the summer before, in 1961. I have an image in my mind, where I am together with my parents by my mother’s mother at her mountain summer pasture. My mother’s mother ask questions about our neighbors’ political affiliations. Especially she asked about the father of one of my friends, which I had much to do with. My father answered. Both my mother’s mother and my father smiled and were glad; when they talked. My father said that the father of my friend was communist. My mother’s mother looked as if she had got to know something, which she had wanted to find out about, which she afterwards kept inside herself. My mother and I also smiled and were glad when we thought about our neighbors. There wasn’t talked more about this. This little glimpse is the only I remember about that.

My mother’s mother and my mother’s father lived on a small farm, a smallholding, with a mountain summer pasture, on the country in the Inland. There are some hours to travel between this place, and where I grew up in Oslo, the capital of Norway. My father came from a farm in the Western Norway, also some hours to travel from Oslo. In 1962, my mother was a full‐time housewife. She was taken up with different needlework, other handwork, and housework. She was interested in cultural traditions. Later; she worked with office work at two places, one after another. My father worked as a turner with a turning lathe, on a large shipbuilding yard in Oslo. He was interested in literature and music, he liked to do cabinetmaker work, and different other handwork.

My mother’s father had also worked at the same shipbuilding yard as my father, earlier in his life.

In Oslo, we lived in a housing cooperative with row houses. It was a do‐it‐yourself building association, which we had joined some years after it started. We bought another’s place. Our house was finished in 1960, before that my parents had been busy with building the house. All helped one another, and we children played with one another and had much fun in the building area. All were workers from the shipbuilding yard. All of them were our friends.

The workers were broadly speaking communists, socialists, and social democrats. Neither of them were strong opponents to such political ideas. In 1962, the communism in Norway was about human rights, justice and a classless society; and the communists worked for such goals although the society wasn’t a communist country. Communists were active, positive and loyal citizens. The communists were against wars. During the Second World War, many of the communists gave their lives for their fellow citizens’ freedom. My father talked about that to me. Many others, with all kinds of different political opinions, also gave their lives for their fellow citizens’ freedom. All these different people did the same thing; they gave their lives for their fellow citizens’ freedom.

I think the original social situation was varied. In the upper class people could be all kinds of different people; from the very best, to the very worst. Among the workers there also could be good and bad. It also was in the upper class that people started to think about that the society was unfair. I think that all the political active people understood about these differences, and that they wanted to get others around themselves, to understand what they were taken up with.

I have never thought that all the good people are at one place, and that all the bad people are at another place, I think that there are god and bad people everywhere. Regarding these political questions, I have some thoughts I have thought by myself: “People who don’t have what they need, are suffering. People who have more than they need, don’t have it better than people who only have what they need”. These few words are about how people for a long time, have thought about how it also is possible to suffer because of ignorance about how they live their life in a wrong way. Think about the novella “A Christmas Carol” 1843, by Charles Dickens 1812 – 1870. This novella is one of many other different writings, which is about such thoughts.

“The greatest happiness, is to make others happy”, are some old words of wisdom. It is also a great pain, to see that others are suffering. Politics isn’t about superficial solutions, it is about thorough and conscientious understanding. It takes much work, and it needs much time, to find out about good political solutions and political development. Democracy is that the people develop their understanding by themselves, and not that they let others tell them what they must think and do. But it is necessary to learn from others, and from one’s own experiences. Democracy is much about human development.

Of course the criminals didn’t like the good people in the upper class. Those people are their traitors, and I think they have treated such traitors very badly. The criminals have done bad things against all different people in the world.

Universal suffrage is in principle that the people get the political power. I think that is what the criminals don’t like. It is important that every citizen understands, that it is a great responsibility to have the political power. It is necessary to learn and understand enough by oneself. It is one’s own responsibility to do that, and it is necessary to follow with great attention what goes on in the society. It is one’s own responsibility to be responsible and find out what is true, not be superficial and let others tell oneself what is true, but to find out about it oneself. It is one’s own responsibility to understand correct. To find out about what is correct, isn’t about winning or losing; it is about being clever and to understand correctly.

My parents had family members and friends with all different political affiliations. My parents never said something negative about any of these different people and their political affiliations. My mother told me that all people with different political affiliations, wanted to do something good in different ways. My father was initially positive towards the communism as a peaceful movement, but he had started to think about how problems had arisen in communistic countries. Neither of my parents talked slightingly about the communists. My father didn’t say much about the communists, but if he did, he only said some fine words about them. Neither of my parents were active in any political party. At home there were many eager political discussions when we had visitors.

My mother said to me that I shouldn’t only think about, that I should have it good myself, I should also care about that the others around me have it good, not only myself. You are not allowed to be bad against others, she strictly said to me when I was a small child. To be bad against others, is the worst you can do, she said. She also said that I shouldn’t talk bad about others, who weren’t there, she thought about people we were together with and had something to do with. I was brought up to find out by myself what I should think and understand, not let others tell me what to think. What others said to me, could be untruthfully. My parents didn’t tell me what I should think. I should learn to think and understand by myself.

In 1962, I didn’t care at all about what kinds of political affiliations people had, I didn’t understand anything about it either. Today I think that the criminals can have influenced all these political ideas from the very beginning, to divide them, and get them to do things they never had done by themselves. I think the criminals can have influenced all other political ideas, the same way. It all is about connections between all these political ideas. I think the criminals have wanted to change the whole social situation, not only a single political group. I also think that these political problems didn’t start when these new political ideas started, the problems started a long time before that.

The question about ownership regarding organized working situations, are a question about ownership of power over people. It isn’t the same as owning one’s own house or one’s own farm, and the like. What ownership over other humans who work, is; and how organized working situations shall be arranged, is something it is important to understand about. I think the criminals have influenced to simplify this question, increased the disagreement about it, reduced the understanding about what this is, and messed up our thoughts about this. There are different aspects regarding this question. Such questions typical have connections with other kinds of questions. There are each topic one by one, and connections between these different topics. It is correct to say, that this is a complicated question. The criminals have taken control over how this shall be understood, in ways we don’t think about how are. Among other things, this has to do with meaning of life, what we make and buy, what we work with, how we work, why we work, what it is to work, etc.

It is possible to understand that the criminals have influenced our way of life, to be on a narrowed track forward, in a way we don’t have understood. Simultaneous the world becomes a horrible battlefield, where we don’t understand how the criminals want to take control over a world they ruin. People who own power over others, under control of the criminals, don’t have the power over themselves.

At my birthday June 8, 1962, I first had a small birthday party together with my friend, and another child from close by. The father of my friend did office work at the same shipbuilding yard where my father worked. Later that day, there came visitors from our family. Among different things, one of them gave me a real football of leather, which I could use together with my friends. He said to me that what is important with the football, is to get it into the goal. I became glad and taken up with the football, and took it with me to my friends in the neighborhood, where we played with it. The other children were in different ages, younger and older. One of the older had talked to me, about that I soon should start school, and then he could be together with me and show me how it was at the school. I thought that was kind of him to say, and I liked him. When I said that to my mother, she became glad. I was used to that all the people around me were kind and friendly, and I knew them all very well. We had known one another for many years.

A few days later, after June 8; my mother’s mother came, together with her youngest daughter, who still was a teenager. My mother’s mother had two daughters. Her first child, a son, died of pneumonia when he was a small child. At that time when he was alive, she, her husband, and another man; had a small company together, which helped people getting rid of bedbugs and the like. My mother’s mother did office work. The company did well. A domestic help took care of their son. When the Second World War started in 1940, they sold the company to the other person, and moved to the small farm, together with my mother. The farm belonged to her family. My mother’s sister was born during the Second World War.

There were years between when my mother’s mother visited us in Oslo. My mother’s mother was eager, and taken up with that I should be together with here at the mountain summer pasture, the whole summer until I should start school. First, she talked about that I should come away from my friends in the neighborhood. She said that there were many other detached house around us, and that I could find other friends there, after I had started school. She said that I could take the football with me to them, and smiled eagerly. My mother didn’t agree about that, and didn’t like it. Then she didn’t talk about that any more, and started to talk about how much fun my mother had had at the mountain summer pasture, when she was a child; and that I also could have much fun the same way, as she had had. My mother became glad when she was reminded about that. They talked about this the whole evening.

It continued with talk about how good it was to be at the mountain summer pasture. My mother’s mother had talked with some other of our relatives by phone, and they should soon be there, together with their children. She talked to my mother about how good it would be for me to be at the mountain summer pasture and play with them. These relatives had been at my birthday a few days before. It wasn’t them who gave me the football. I didn’t like any of this talk. But when I went to bed that night, my mother was glad and said to me that I had to travel to the mountain summer pasture together with her mother and her sister. Her sister smiled and was glad all the time.

I don’t remember how I came to the mountain summer pasture. The first I remember from the mountain summer pasture, is that I stood at the yard and looked in the direction of the train station. My mother’s mother asked me what I wanted. I said that I wanted to travel home. She said that was impossible. I said that I could walk to the train station by myself, and take the train home. She said that I didn’t have money to the train ticket. She hardened herself, and said that my parents needed to be given some peace from me. She talked in a way that got me to understand, that I bothered my parents by being together with them. I became sad, and didn’t want to be bad against my parents by bothering them and being a nuisance to them. I started to think that I had to give my parents some peace, to not to bother them.

I don’t remember what happened during the summer. In the evening she told me fairy tales which I liked to listen to. She joked about things and got me to laugh. I don’t remember anything about what happened there the first summers, and very little about what happened there the following summers. Every autumn she told my parents that I had had it so good at the mountain summer pasture. And my parents became glad. I had played with the other children around, and had much fun.

Just before my parents came to get me home, it was early the same day, just before I should start school; she talked to me about my friend and his father. She said that my friend wasn’t good for me to be together with. When you now come home, then you shall not be together with him anymore, she said to me. I said that she didn’t know him. She said that she had seen him, so she could understand that. (She had only caught a glimpse of him, and never talked with him.) His father is bad, she said. (She had never seen his father, and didn’t know anything about him.) I answered that his father is kind, and that she didn’t know his father. She said that she was an adult, and knew that, I had to listen to her who knew that. People like him should have been in prison, she said. people like him are terrible dangerous, she said. She said that such people want to take the factories from them who own them. It is them, who have done it all, she said. They will not let people own anything. We can’t own anything, if they get it to be as they want. No one around here agree with them, she said. I said that we owned our houses together. I thought about that my friend had said that, and when I said it to my mother; she said, that in a way, that is correct. My mother’s mother became hard, and said angry, what a nonsense. That isn’t true, she said. It is you who own your house, she said strict. They write many books, such people; she said. You shall never read some of those books, she said to me. After this, we didn’t talk more about this. I didn’t understand anything about what my mother’s mother had talked about. My parents had never talked about such things with me, and I didn’t talk about this with my parents afterwards either. I didn’t understand what my mother’s mother had talked about. It was only some incomprehensible messy babble for me, which disappeared as a mess in my thoughts.

When I came home, the first I did, was to run the fasted I could to my friend, to talk with him. I talked confused and disconnected about that his father was terrible dangerous, and that he should have been in prison. We don’t own our houses together, I desperately said. I said that he couldn’t be together with his father anymore, because he was so dangerous. My friend started to cry. He asked if it was my parents, who said that. I was confuse and in a shaken state. I didn’t understand anything about what I was talking about. Bewildered, I answered yes, without understanding anything at all. My friend cried, and went away from me.

I never talked to my parents about this. I didn’t understand anything about what happened either. When I after that, tried to get in contact with my friends again, neither of them wanted to be together with me anymore. One after one of them said different things about how bad I was, how evil I was, that no girls wanted to be together with me ever, when I talked to them, etc. When I came to them with the football, no one wanted to talk with me or have anything with me to do. Our neighbors didn’t want to be together with us anymore, they said veiled negative things to us, which my parents didn’t understand. My father now and then talked about how strange people around us had begun to be, they weren’t like that before, he said confused.

Our nearest neighbor beside us, who had been my father’s friend, moved away and didn’t have anything to do with us anymore. All the others, where my father worked, had been informed about what I had said.

At the school they had been informed about this, without our knowledge abut it, the same at every other school in the area. The city district administration must also has been informed the same way. Maybe higher authorities in the society also was informed. My parents did never understand what this was.

When I started school, I had been alone. First I felt as a stranger, after some time everything became mentally painful for me, but I didn’t understand anything about why. I became so thin that it was dangerous. The rest of my time at school developed this way. Every day I waited for that the school day should be over, and that the school one day should be finished, it was painful for me to be there. I didn’t understand myself and what had happened with my own life. I didn’t have a personal footing with belonging to a local environment any longer. When I started school, I didn’t have friends. I never talked about this with my parents or anybody else, I didn’t understand it.

The following Christmas we were together with my grandparents on my father’s side. They became shocked by seeing how thin I had been. They run to the shop, and bought a plate, a bowl, knife, fork, and tablespoon as Christmas present to me. They said that I didn’t get a teaspoon, because I should eat the dessert from the large bowl with the large tablespoon. The plate and the bowl were white, that was because I should care about the food and not about the plate and the bowl, they said. The cutlery had handles of wood, because they should be good to hold in my hand. Afterwards I liked to use these things, and became glad when I eat with them. I think this helped me to start to eat. I smiled and said that I should have dessert in the big bowl, and I got dessert in the big bowl. I started to like to eat rolled oats with milk and sugar, from the big bowl. I like that very much, and ate more than one bowl with that, and my mother said that I had to stop, because rolled oats swell in the stomach.

Someone also gave me a plate with a fairy tale picture on, from a Norwegian folk tale. “De tre bukkene Bruse som skulle gå til seters og gjøre seg fete”. (The three he‐goats Bruse that should walk to the mountain summer pasture to make themselves fat.) But I don’t remember who gave me that plate. I thought that plate was funny, and ate from that also. My mother said that I should care about the food, and not about the picture on the plate, and I did that. This fairy tale is about that on the way to the mountain summer pasture, they had to go over a bridge, and under the bridge, there lived a troll. The troll wanted to eat them when they went over the bridge. But the first small he‐goat said, that the troll should wait for the next, because he was much bigger than him. So said also the second middle‐sized he‐goat. When the third large he‐goat came, he was big and strong enough to butt the troll down in the river, when the troll came to eat him.

I also had a plate with a picture, from another fairy story play, called “When the Robbers Came to Cardamom Town” (Norwegian: Folk og røvere i Kardemomme by), written and illustrated by the Norwegian author Thorbjørn Egner.

I also remember the next year, when I came home from the mountain summer pasture in 1963, that I run to my friend again, to talk with him about that now we could walk together to the school. I knew that he should start school that year. He said to me that he shouldn’t start at the same school as me. We should walk our several ways, he said. We should not have anything to do with one another, he said. I went home and said to my mother, that we shouldn’t go at the same school, that we should go our several ways. My mother became sad and confused, and didn’t say anything. Maybe she said that then I had to go to the school without him.

My mother’s mother also talked repeatedly to me about that men with beard are dangerous. She never gave a reason for that, other than it was something dangerous with them. They shouldn’t had beard, she said. One time she talked about a man in our family who had beard. That he had beard, that wasn’t good, she said. I thought about that he was kind, and that he wasn’t dangerous, and I said that. My mother’s mother answered that maybe exactly he isn’t so dangerous. No, he isn’t dangerous, I said. Then we didn’t talk more such about him. Over the years, I started little by little to contradict my mother’s mother when she spoke in strange ways, about people and things I knew about, and then she listened to what I said. One time she talked about a communist in our family, she said that those people do so much bad. I answered that he is kind, and that he is very kind against me. Then she answered: “I hear that you say that.” Yes, I said, he is very kind. She answered: “Well, then we say that.” Then we didn’t talk more such about him.

We talked much more about all kinds of things in sensible ways, strange things were only a little now and then. We normally talked much about the local environment. That was also what my mother’s mother was taken up with together with others. It was about the nature, the wildlife, characteristic things with the terrain, and the neighbors around us. Now and then we visited the neighbors, and they visited us. It could also be, that the neighbors looked after the farm animals for one another, if one of them had something else to do a part of the day. We were much taken up with the farm animals; cows, goats and hens. My grandparents had a little smaller cows than normal, called “Dølaku”, because these cows were quick‐footed. The goats were trained to be together with the cows, from they were small. They went freely into the mountains. At the mountain summer pasture people lived and worked as a whole, in a way they had control over by themselves. Among different other things, we liked to play Yatzy, a game of dice with five or six dice. That was exciting and fun. We played a game of Yatzy quite often, it took a little time to finish one game. We could also stop in the middle of the game, and continue later.

Over the years, I became fond of being at the mountain summer pasture together with my mother’s mother and my friends there, in the summer. It was a small society where people organized their life as they wanted themselves, and they were good neighbors. My mother’s mother started to sell what people needed the most. She did it for fun, and to help her small community, she didn’t earn money from it. Different people came from every parts a few times every day, and her place became a popular center. People talked and became in good humor when they came to buy something.

Later my mother’s mother said that it was so terrible to see how thin I became, when we built the house. That wasn’t correct. It was after I had been together with here at the mountain summer pasture the summer 1962, that I became so thin.

Later my mother’s mother said that she was glad, that I didn’t have contact with my friend anymore. She looked empty and expressionless in her face. My mother looked sad. My father looked confused. I didn’t remember that I had had this friend, so I didn’t understand what she was talking about. Beyond that, I never heard that she talked more about these things again. I can’t remember that she talked about politics with my parents. She never talked about politics with me any more either. What was correct; was that I had had many friends, not only one, and that I had lost them all. I didn’t remember that either.

The only thing my parents said to me about my friend; was when my mother earlier said to me, that I should be kind to him, because he was younger than me. Because I was larger, I should be kind to him who was smaller than me, she said to me, when he and I were friends. Both my parents were kindly and glad; when they talked about the family of my friend, and the other neighbors around us. About my friend’s father, my father smiled friendly when he talked about him. My friend’s father worked at the office, he said, and my father worked at the engineering workshop; therefore they didn’t talk with each other at the job, he said. My parents never understood anything about what my mother’s mother had done. I didn’t remember anything about this friend. I haven’t understood anything about it, before I now have understood about it in a couple of years.

The general impression my mother’s mother gave, was that she was kind. She only had some strange and incomprehensible ideas. She was helpful and kind to all the people around her. She didn’t exclude people from family parties and the like, because of political affiliations. In the rural district where my mother’s mother and my mother’s father lived, people also cared about one another, and helped one another. My mother’s mother didn’t know anything at all about my friends and their families, and our contact with them, where I lived with my parents in Oslo. It was we; who often traveled to her and her husband. There were only a few times she visited us, and when she did, she never greet our neighbors.

My mother’s father was gentle and kind. I remember him as a person, who cared much about me, when I was a child. He did funny things together with me. We also had fun by working together on the farm. He never said a single bad word about my friends and their families in Oslo. I never heard he said a single bad word about anyone. When I was a small child, they had a horse at the farm, a light colored Norwegian pony (also called a Fjord horse). Every summer the horse had its summer vacation in the area around the mountain summer pasture. When we came with the train, my mother’s father always stood by the station, together with the horse and a cart, and waited for us. He smiled and became glad when he saw us, when we came out of the train and went down on the platform.

This is a short version about this. This has marked me afterwards, in a way I didn’t understand anything about myself, before now.

The criminals have influenced me in 1975, in a way that changed this to be something else. But I don’t know how they have done that. Before that, I didn’t think about this. The influences about this, started to work after 1986.

May 10, 2017, David H. Hegg