When we said our last goodbye, three days before your departure on the journey you’ve been saving your wealth and dreams for, I held you in my arms and couldn’t let go.
I knew something was going to happen to you. You promised me that you would return home immediately if anything went wrong. You assured me that everything would be fine; I shouldn’t worry.

That memory of you standing in my doorway… Oh Majken if I could turn back time I would… only this time I wouldn’t let go of you that easily. But I don’t think ten wild horses would have kept you from going anyway.
In the memory of that last thought, I see through the endless grief. You did what you have to do my beloved friend.

In respect of that I live on, knowing that your last adventure was in the name of love, freedom and real happiness. You survived the difficulties you met in your childhood, the teasing in school and many other tough things. I lived with you through some of it. We supported each other, grew up together. You managed to find your own special way out of it. You became a very beautiful young woman. I hope you know that.

I wasn’t so close to you the last four years of your life. We kind of went separate ways. I got children and you went to the U.K. But we kept our contact and gave each other short briefings about the things that vent on in our lives.

You caught life in its largest sense and fought even more strongly for those who were less fortunate than you. If there is a deeper meaning with destiny in its own sarcastic form, it must be that we have a lot to learn in caring for each other. Your disappearing opened our eyes. You must have reached a higher level, like a mini Mother Teresa, caring globally.
I don’t like the word “was” about you. More I like the word “is”. You still are, and will always be, in my heart forever. Love you always Katja.

P.S. See you