If this home could talk... it would tell me about my grandma age 2. How they had a pig one summer. How this place was their escape from the war. How the balcony used to be the front entry way. How people got married and had babies... it would tell me about my childhood- remind me of all the things I have forgotten. And reunite me with the memories I haven’t. Like when we would make bowls and chairs and tables out of pieces of wood and nails, and hide in our home beneath her floors. This is Koivuniemi. It’s where my grandma goes when she closes her eyes at night and it’s where many of my Finland family hope heaven to be after we die. The magic is SO REAL here. Josef fell in love, and now we have passed the love onto our children. Heikki says he wants to move here. There’s no clean running water, only outhouses, and no shower. But somehow those conveniences wouldn’t really fit her story anyway. She is old- she houses mice, she creaks and bends, she is a little crooked. But she is so loved. She is what ties our generations together. We, the 1-90 year olds, all have fond memories in those walls. And I hope she stands forever.