It was the last day of my sons school. As I was singing We wish you a Merry Christmas, it hit me: This is my sons childhood. His memories will be in English. The songs he will remember will be these. How different it is from my own memories. There is a cultural difference in my own family.
But would I give up the friendships I have made here. Or the person I have become. No, never.
And it is not just the country that is different from my childhood, the whole world is a different place.
I have a happy bilangual child, who watches Finnish wintersports with my mum via Skype.
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