It is so difficult to tell somebody that you love them, or that you really care. Honesty can be so hard to utter. I hardly ever tell my parents that I love them, and when I do I feel like a weirdo because they are not used to such honesty.
However, some people abuse the word love.
"Those three words, are said too much, but not enough"
I love you grandpa, feel better soon.
This month was supposed to be fun and unforgettable, and it really turned out to be unforgettable, in the worst way ever. It all happened during my two weeks in the states. The first bad news was that my grandpa is very ill, and he is in a hospital in Thailand. He is too sick to come home, and therefore he and my grandma had to stay longer. This really affected my dad and I could see that he was very upset. Three of his siblings went to Thailand to see grandpa, and I can see that my dad really wanted to go too. In the middle of that, my dad also got the news that his beloved boat was stolen. Later he heard that my brother found it, but unfortunately it was a little wrecked.
A day before we were going home, we got the worst news. There had been a bomb in Oslo city which exploded and killed seven people. This was so shocking because that kind of thing just do not happen in Norway. Later that day we heard about something else that had happened back home, and it was terrifying. A man dressed as a cop had entered an island full of AUF youths on summer camp. They were from the age of 11 to 25. The fake cop killed 76 youths. Many of them were hiding, escaping and begging for their lives, but he fired away. The stories about this massacre have been on the screens without any end to it. It is so touching and horrible to read the stories of the victims, how they experienced it. It tears me up inside.
Like a cherry on top of everything, we lost all our three flights home because we read the wrong time of departure from Miami. We had to order new tickets which came on 40 000 altogether for three people.