English

• 00:00:00 Mira
• Starting the recording now. And while this is recording, I'll mention again, or we can go through it again, that this interview is for the Hibernation project. Today is September 13, 2024, and I’ll ask again what I asked earlier, about the anonymization of this interview. So, if you want, you can now or later indicate if you’d like the interview to be anonymized and how. Do you want any identifiable information removed from the interview? Do you want the voice to be altered so it's unrecognizable? Another option with the voice is that someone from our team could transcribe and re-record the interview. You can let me know now or at any later time.
• 00:01:00 Marja-Sisko
• That’s clear.
• 00:01:01 Mira
• Thank you. Let’s start with the question: What makes you laugh?
• 00:01:15 Marja-Sisko
• A cat named Erkki is one good reason for laughter. I consider myself a very positive person, and I enjoy situations with humor—nothing offensive or anything like that, just things that feel funny. And especially with my spouse, there are many situations that bring smiles to our faces.
• 00:01:43 Mira
• Can you think of a situation, either with Erkki the cat or with your spouse, from recent times, that stands out?
• 00:01:56 Marja-Sisko
• Yeah, there are a million of them. A huge number. I can’t think of just one right now.
• 00:01:58 Mira
• Well, if something comes to mind, feel free to share.
• 00:02:04 Marja-Sisko
• Maybe it will come up with another question. When I married Birgitta in 1973, she made me a scarf for Christmas, about five meters long, with a message written on it: "Konna kelmi kepuli, älä vingu suojatiellä." It's a completely absurd phrase, but it just felt good. I’ve tried to remember that request.
• 00:02:41 Mira
• Is that scarf still around?
• 00:02:46 Marja-Sisko
• It mysteriously disappeared during a move. I don’t know where it is at the moment.
• 00:02:48 Mira
• But the phrase lives on.
• 00:02:48 Marja-Sisko
• 00:02:49 Mira
• I might ask these questions in a different order, depending on where we’re going with this. Is there something you wish people would ask you more often, or something you wish people would ask you in general?
• 00:03:30 Marja-Sisko
• About the trans issue?
• 00:03:30 Mira
• Or anything else.
• 00:03:35 Marja-Sisko
• I’ve been very happy to talk about books, for example. I just released my ninth crime novel. It’s a very important thing for me, and then there's physical activity. We walk in nature a lot, almost daily, usually five to ten kilometers, sometimes longer if needed. But at this age, it feels good to come home in the evening and get a warm shower and get into bed. The days of camping are probably behind me. Maybe it’s more about nature walks and literature. Well, of course, I’m also happy to talk about the trans issue, although my knowledge of the current situation of the process is outdated—it was 15 years ago for me.
• 00:04:30 Mira
• If it’s okay, I’d like to ask about writing, because I just released my first novel last year. I’m also curious because of that. Has writing always been present in your life, or did it come from somewhere?
• 00:05:09 Marja-Sisko
• It’s always been there, from a young age. I’d draw, and I’d want to write. I did a lot of writing, but it was very dry, factual text with very little adjectives, for example. But then I retired in 2018, and actually, even over five years before that, I started focusing more on writing when my life situation changed. For instance, the kids weren’t constantly around anymore, and the grandchildren were far away. Suddenly, I realized I had free time, which was a novelty in my life. Writing felt like a very fun way to fill that time. It’s a type of creativity that’s constantly developing. It’s about transferring something to reality that may not even exist, but it’s fun to live in it. Maybe I chose crime novels because it’s currently the most popular genre in Finnish literature. A lot is published, but a breakthrough is unlikely. If a few good books come out each year, that’s about it.
• But it’s an intriguing topic because it delves into the deep layers of the human mind, things that are not visible on the surface and can’t necessarily be inferred from a person’s behavior or appearance—motivation factors. What makes a person do something, or not do something? Why does someone solve problems with violence or even with murder? And why does the majority not do that? What makes a person do horrific things? And how does it affect the person afterward? Is there such a thing as desensitization, that it becomes easier to act against the law? Or does it start to bother the conscience, the person’s internal experience? Does a person manage the knowledge that they’ve taken another person’s life?
• And of course, crime literature must always involve the resolution of these actions, one way or another, through investigation and how we get to the facts, how we distinguish important from irrelevant details. A key thing is, for example, how finding the right path often requires first trying 80 wrong ones, until we realize that this one works. Then, of course, we need to build the whole picture, to find the evidence and get the culprit to admit it. In my latest book, I went with an easy solution where the person doesn’t confess anything because they die at the end. I reached a bit of a cheap drama level with that—everyone dies at the end. It’s a bit of a trick that can’t be used in every book, but I’ll let it go this time.
• What I don’t like in endings is the Agatha Christie style where all the characters are gathered, and the great detective describes each one, saying, "You did this and that, and you mixed this up, and you’re guilty because of this." That style is fine the first couple of times, but if it’s used too often, I find it tedious. Literature is fascinating in general, though. As is nature walking. I used to play a lot of volleyball, but now my ankles can’t handle it.
• 00:10:14 Mira
• Do you think about plot twists while walking in the woods, or do you completely disconnect from writing?
• 00:10:22 Marja-Sisko
• I mostly let the forest be the forest and just immerse myself in the experience of nature. But sometimes, in an unexpected moment, a thought will pop into my head, like, "Wait a minute, that could work," and some detail will click. For example, how to transition from one theme to another or how something becomes clearer. You can’t rely on chance too much in a plot; you usually have to find deliberate work that leads to results. You can’t always describe how to get forward right away. Many writers have said that when they hit a wall and wonder how to proceed, they ask their main character what happens next. And after enough of that, the characters start answering. Maybe our subconscious works pretty well in that sense.
• Writing is, above all, fun for me now. It’s an immersive experience, living in a reality that doesn’t necessarily exist but is enjoyable. It’s not that different from theology or religious life, actually. Those are topics I’ve also enjoyed talking about. My book was just launched on the 4th of this month. It was great to see the library meeting room full of people interested in it. There are always new books, and people want to talk to the authors. Of course, there was a bit of sales activity too, and we even got to sign books.
• But reading hasn’t disappeared from this world—those who read, read even more than before. It’s said that you can pass through basic school without reading a single book, which is a terrible situation, but... there are exceptions who read and devour books. Back when I was a kid and young, it was normal for many people to be avid readers, maybe from ages nine to fifteen. They could read huge numbers of books. Every week we’d go to the library with a big bag, and we’d usually read them all. Whether we understood everything, that’s another matter, but we tried, and little by little, we understood more.
• 00:13:20 Mira
• Do you remember any specific books from that time? Is there one that stands out?
• 00:13:33 Marja-Sisko:
• There was an enormous amount. Of course, as a child, there were more everyday situations, and maybe a few adventures as well. One book that stood out was Lisa Tessner's The Black Brotherhood, a two-part book about chimney-sweep boys in Milan was an incredible experience, among other things. There were also Gruber’s books about Danish youth stealing horses in Hungary Fredrik Mörjet's pirate stories, and sea adventures in general, and Jules Verne—actually, his entire body of work. He also wrote science fiction at a time when the term "science fiction" wasn’t even used yet. In the late 1800s, he wrote about submarine journeys in a time when no functional submarines existed anywhere in the world. But the design for them was largely based on his books. Simon Lake, an English colleague, was the one who developed the submarine that could really dive about twenty meters, move underwater, and be steered. And within a few decades, Germany had developed a weapon for the South Seas War that sank British merchant ships.
• Perhaps Arthur Conan Doyle’s detective stories, the Sherlock Holmes tales, were also influential. I read them all. We had them at home in the family library because my father also enjoyed reading them. Then I got them in English, and they are still with my daughter. A perfect Sherlock Holmes collection, which also included a few novellas or short novels, like the Four Signatures story. I read a lot because my father was an avid detective novel reader, so we had many of those at home. The Sapo series and Salama series were popular in the '60s—cheap paperback books, mostly about murders and their solutions. ‘
• But there were also domestic books in the mix. There was a crime reporter from the Helsingin Sanomat newspaper, Mauri Sariola, who wrote novels. Seura magazine published them by photographing scenes and presenting them over two pages in each issue, showing how the crime was solved. It was a fun way to bring the novel to life. People acted out the scenes, and I suppose the copyright was handled accordingly. Well, that was one example. But pretty soon I started wondering why some people write brick-thick novels. Perhaps Mika Waltari was the one who gave the most, as his writing was quite easy to understand. However, you could quickly notice that there was a certain pattern in his books, where his adventurers were often curious but somewhat passive and easily manipulated men, especially by women. There was always a woman, like Nefertiti or someone else—no, wait, Nefer Nefer Nefer.
• Then there were the Russian classics, which I admit, didn't always open up to me, but maybe Gogol’s short stories were the easiest in that regard. Then there was Tolstoy's War and Peace. I admit I have read it twice through; it's a thick book. And I feel like I still don’t fully understand it well enough—it's massive. And of course, it has the historical background of France's invasion of Russia, but it also has such incredible character descriptions. That’s what I try to capture in my own writing—understanding the motivations of the mind, why people act the way they do. It’s still a huge mystery to science in a way, but we are making a little progress in understanding it.
• And hopefully, we understand a little more about literature the more we read. Every young person goes through an existentialist phase at that time, reading things like Camus, Kafka, and similar books that are somewhat sad in nature. On the other hand, they are a bit nonsensical too. Kafka always has something unbelievable, like the transformation of a man into a giant bug, or being summoned to a castle where a repairman is constantly misdirected so that he can never even reach the castle. It’s a justice story where a person is threatened with harsh punishment and investigated for guilt, yet we never really find out what the person is being accused of or what they might have done. But that’s what Kafka’s life in the 1920s and '30s was largely about, being of Jewish descent in Czech lands, constantly being oppressed and blamed for things with no reason. But the large majority began to feel that this is just how things were done. In books, that remains preserved, and I have a huge collection of films, which I enjoy watching.
• But when so many films are made based on books, I feel the movie is always a disappointment. It's just one interpretation of certain situations and events and how they unfold. When reading a book, at least I see a vast number of different possibilities and paths forward, trying to understand why things happen, and so on. It’s a much broader world than the moving picture, which is a truly wonderful invention as well. I’ve gone pretty far in talking about books. Maybe because it’s such a dear subject to me. I could talk about it endlessly. We have a storage room at home, and it’s full of books. And there [on the bookshelf] is another one of my hobbies. I have about 200,000 postage stamps in albums from members all over the world.
• 00:21:03 Mira:
• When did you start collecting stamps?
• 00:21:15 Marja-Sisko:
• Since I was a child, it started with the joy of receiving a card or a letter, and then saving the stamps. I started with lion-themed stamps. Later, as an adult, it became more serious, but philately is a field that requires much more dedication than I have time to give to it. It's the same as with anything else — it was only when my family situation changed, you know... I still love my children, grandchildren, and young ones. It's wonderful when they are close. But when they are around, stamp collecting doesn’t really happen. It requires time. It’s been more of a hobby in the last 20 years than before. I buy my stamps from auctions, and I have 300 swap friends around the world. Most of them always have something I’m interested in. It’s a kind of fellowship, where most people genuinely want to help other collectors by sharing what they have or what they might need.
• Of course, in international trade, there's always someone who tries to cheat or deceive, but that's very rare. There haven't been many disappointments over the years. Money spent is actually quite little. The idea is to swap whenever possible. It’s fun that something that is common here in Finland can be very interesting and exotic in places like South Africa. And vice versa, of course, I sometimes find stamps that others want from me, or things I want from others. It's also great for maintaining language skills, as I’m best at English and German in these exchanges. Sometimes I try to write or speak other languages, but I often need a dictionary. And a few other aids too.
• 00:24:05 Mira:
• But do you exchange letters at all?
• 00:24:10 Marja-Sisko:
• Yes, I do. And they’re usually fairly formal letters, like “Hi, I’m this person, and here’s my interest.” Then with someone I know, it’s a bit more personal. I’d write, "I’m sending you this circular letter, and by the way, do you have any of the stamps I’m looking for?" You learn basic phrases in different languages for these exchanges. Then there’s people like Ikuo Matsuda, an elderly Japanese man, almost 90, who is sadly now too blind to be an active philatelist. But he still enjoys sharing his life experiences, both as a philatelist and in general. He was even preparing to volunteer during the Tokyo Olympics. He was disappointed when the games were delayed and then held without international visitors due to the worst of the pandemic. I have similar friends in various places — Scandinavia, Germany, England, France, Italy. I get a lot of mail from these countries and also from places like Japan and North America. It’s nice to get mail from places like Serbia. They have quite different stamps. I have a special interest in small European countries, and Luxembourg has an exceptionally rich collection. They focus on quality, not quantity. Many of their stamps feature rulers, events, fairs, and so on. Liechtenstein, Andorra, San Marino — these also interest me. It’s always fascinating to see how people live in different parts of the world and what is important to them. I also wonder what they might want to know about Finland, or about the life of an old priest in Kuopio.
• 00:26:38 Mira:
• Is there any stamp that you think is particularly beautiful? Any that have touched you recently or over the years?
• 00:27:10 Marja-Sisko:
• Actually, I’ve always been fascinated by Hungarian stamps since I was a child. They have a lot of beautiful art stamps, many painted by Hungarian artists. The stamps are often quite large, about five by eight centimeters. They don’t have much commercial value because Hungary printed them in large quantities, tens of millions. Most collectors already have them in their albums if they’re at all interested. They’re not valuable in that sense, but I like them. Hungary has two big albums, and one starts with the first stamps. The first stamps in most countries were quite dull — just decorative backgrounds with a number on top, meaning they were more for postal use. Most countries started producing pictorial stamps around 1900. They were often heads of historical figures. The stamps were about 1.5 by 2 cm. Even in Finland, the first pictorial stamp came out only in 1922, and it was a Red Cross stamp. Since it had an additional fee, it didn’t sell well and was sold for over ten years. It was not very expensive. Other pictorial stamps started appearing in Finland in 1929, when Turku celebrated its 700th anniversary.
• 00:28:58 Mira:
• Let’s go back a bit. If you think of your younger self, the one who used to borrow detective and adventure books from the library, if you could send a letter or a message to that younger you, what would you say to them from today?
• 00:29:49 Marja-Sisko:
• Well, perhaps I would tell myself not to do some of the silly things I did, and maybe warn myself about some things. But mostly, I’d say encouraging words to keep moving forward and continue on that path. But I would also tell myself not to specialize too early in something too narrow. It can help you be good at it, but you’ll miss out on living a full life. I’d advise leaving space for all the experiences life offers, trying different things, being open, and keeping that openness. I want to believe that things tend to work out, and that people generally mean well. That’s the lesson life has taught me. I’ve had my share of challenges, but I’ve met far more good people than those who want to cause harm or disrupt things.
• 00:31:11 Mira:
• Did you have any imaginary friends when you were a child?
• 00:32:16 Marja-Sisko:
• Should I start from the beginning?
• 00:32:21 Mira:
• Yes, please go ahead.
• 00:32:40 Marja-Sisko:
• Not really, not the kind of specific imaginary friend that some people have. But whenever I had the chance to express my imagination, I imagined a lot of situations, people, and events — where I would be, who I’d meet, and what would happen. But these would change based on the situation I was in. I didn’t have a single named imaginary friend. And back in those days, especially from the 60s onwards, living as a transgender person meant that much of life was based on imagination, as it was extremely difficult to express or live out what you felt was such a huge part of your identity. It was a time of being in the closet, and also believing that no one else could possibly be in a similar situation because nobody talked about these things.
• Then, years later, I don’t remember how I got a hold of a sensationalist magazine that talked about people like Kristiina Jürgensen, and others like her. They were kind of scandals back then, still are to a certain extent, but much more discreet now. And the tone was always something like, “Can you imagine such strange people exist?” It opened my eyes a bit, to realize that other people had these issues as well. But it was also frightening, the way people responded to it. It taught me to never talk about these things, because you'd be seen as completely crazy or ridiculous. Even in Finnish psychiatry textbooks, things like sexual identity and behavior were considered illnesses or something that should be “corrected.” That’s completely opposite to what we understand now. They were products of their time, of course, but it also taught me not to reveal anything about it because you’d be treated as insane. And I was, in some ways, but more in a civilized way.
• 00:36:14 Mira:
• Yes, that can lead to a lot of reflections. Moving on, is there anything about aging that has surprised you?
• 00:36:51 Marja-Sisko:
• Regarding aging? When I was young, I was surprised by the fact that development always seemed to go in the wrong direction, with the masculine traits becoming more prominent. Aging, however, doesn’t surprise me much anymore. Of course, it’s a bit frustrating that my balance isn’t the same as it used to be on skiing trips, so now I have to sometimes avoid steeper downhill paths. Because I can't control my body as well anymore. Similarly, as some people say, "the hills grow" as you age. I don’t move as quickly and nimbly anymore, and I probably don’t have the stamina I used to have. But on the other hand, that’s part of being human. There was a time when every day one was bigger and stronger. Now, we are at the stage where our physical abilities are gradually weakening, but there’s a lot you can do about it. Mainly by keeping the body moving, so that problems don’t arise. Not nearly as many, and it keeps the major difficulties at bay.
• Perhaps what bothers me more than the physical decline, which we can’t really prevent in the long term, is the mental aspect. As they say, the hard drive begins to fill up gradually, and it takes a little longer to find things. It still works fine, but it might take more time than before. I had an incredibly good memory as a child and a young person, and now I sometimes have to search for things. Like I had to search for Mauri Sariola’s name previously in this conversation. And that, they say, is completely normal. It’s just part of getting older, and gradually, forgetting certain things becomes a part of it. There are many things in life that are okay to forget, but it’s frustrating when important information doesn’t seem to surface, even when digging for it.
• But on the positive side, I enjoy being older. It’s nice to live and age together with my partner. I do want to emphasize that this is just my interpretation and experience. I know that there are people who enjoy being alone and are completely satisfied with life that way. For us, it has worked well that there are two of us, and we spend a lot of time together. For example, hiking is something we both enjoy. We walk in nature reserves, national parks, and different hiking trails. Above all, we search for new places. My dream has always been to find expansive wilderness where water peeks through somewhere, and there are rocks as well. That’s where I feel at home in nature.
• And then there’s the idea that you can live a fulfilling life as you age. Life doesn’t have to end at fifty or after retiring or something like that. On the contrary, a new phase could be starting. I’ve already mentioned that, for the first time in my life, I have plenty of free time and I can plan for myself what I want to do. When I was in the busy years of life, it was pretty much from the early hours of the morning to the evening, always knowing what I had to do because my hands were full with family, work, and other things. Now I can fill my calendar more with things I enjoy. Now, it might sound too idealistic, but I also do things that I hope can help or bring joy to others. For example, if we were to remove the age restriction of 60 for volunteer organizations, you would see that many areas are run by people who are retired, and who are doing incredibly valuable work for others, not necessarily for financial compensation, which is rarely the case, but for the good feeling it brings. I believe, following Plato’s ideas, that humans are two-legged, featherless social beings. We need other people in our lives, and the feeling that we can be of help or benefit or joy to others. A person is not, in this sense, an island, and humanity includes social interaction—considering other people. I could talk about this forever, of course, but it’s not a burdensome obligation or something forced; it should be something where, as St. Francis of Assisi says, when you do something good for others, you get something back that is difficult to describe in words, but at the very least, you get a good feeling from it.
• 00:43:20 Mira:
• So, related to the topic, I would like to ask, what makes you feel taken care of?
• 00:43:39 Marja-Sisko:
• Where does it come from for me?
• 00:43:40 Mira:
• When you feel that someone has taken care of you.
• 00:43:49 Marja-Sisko:
• It's largely in childhood experiences. You probably mean nowadays or something close to it.
• 00:43:55 Mira:
• It could also be from earlier or closer to the present time.
• 00:44:07 Marja-Sisko:
• I was born in 1973, and there were times when we [Marja-Sisko and her partner] were forced to separate, as the law was so crazy that same-sex couples couldn’t be together. But I have remarried since then. So, this marriage with Birgitta has been incredibly rewarding for me. Of course, we sometimes blow up, sulk, and are convinced that the other person is the most unbearable human being on Earth. However, generally, it’s been wonderful to be together and complement each other. I probably balance her spontaneous and sometimes fiery nature, and perhaps it's the professional side of me that brings a bit of reason to it, but she is a fantastic organizer in certain things, incredibly handy, great at cooking and so on. I could talk all day about her good qualities. I’ve experienced that it’s good to be together, and would this be considered care as well? Well, neither of us is a caregiver, I’m not one either. Maybe at some point in life, that may come up, but for now, we’re relatively healthy and everything is well. We probably give each other something that keeps a long relationship from growing apart or digging up old wounds, but instead helps us find the positive sides of life. When you know what makes the other happy and what both still need, life tends to guide you to live accordingly. And again, I emphasize that it’s not an obligation or something forced, but something you genuinely want to do. It would be terrible if you had to sulk every day or fear what the other might do, instead of just trusting each other in everything. Care is also when relatives and friends have been supportive during difficult times. In a religious sense, I could talk endlessly about it, but regarding the trans issue, the most important caregiver is currently sitting in the kitchen [Birgitta]. She was the support and security even then.
• 00:47:29 Mira:
• This is a very specific question: do you like to hold hands with Birgitte and how does it feel?.
• 00:47:49 Marja-Sisko:
• Well, sometimes just holding hands, but a proper hug is much more important. I am someone for whom close contact is incredibly important. That there exists someone who believes that when I come close, I’m not trying to do anything bad or forceful, but I’m familiar, safe, tender, open, and all those other things. It goes both ways. We hug each other several times a day. There’s also a saying in Karelia: "Feed the other person with words." So, we may tease each other with words, and if we don’t know what else to say, we say to each other, "vaku, vaku." It means that we assure [assure is vakuuttaa in Finnish] each other: "I love you." It started years ago when Birkitte, in a situation where I had done something incredibly silly in her opinion, said that she didn’t know what to say. I said that she could assure me of her love. So that’s how it started, and now we say "vaku vaku" every day as part of our good nights.
• Closeness is a really wonderful thing for me. I’m a pretty shy person and I can’t just hug everyone, especially not strangers, but some people, yes. My children, especially when they were little, learned that both grandma and mum were really big huggers. I was their mum. And I believe it didn’t do anyone any harm. We hug and hold each other. Now children and grandchildren live far away, so we don’t see each other very often. A few times a year, certainly, maybe about once a month or more. The good part was that we saw each other more often when we were younger. Now, our grandchildren are already approaching adulthood. The oldest is currently in the armored brigade as a conscript. The second one is going to do a gap year. I’ve also had the chance to see that generation grow up. My own children have had their feet firmly under their own table for a long time, and their lives are organized. Maybe in situations like sitting in the audience in a theatre where hugging is physically harder or might attract attention, then you can reach for the other person’s hand. But really, other gestures, looks, and things like that can say a lot when you’ve learned to live together.
• 00:52:11 Mira:
• We’ve now talked for almost an hour. Is there something you would still like to share?
• 00:52:33 Marja-Sisko:
• Of course, as a person grows older, you imagine that you’re uniquely wise and clever about everything, which isn’t true. You can be old and forgetful about some things. But I do believe that it’s worth believing in good and acting in a way that makes that good happen, whatever that may be, to put it ceremoniously “to build this land” in many ways, but also in smaller circles, by doing good for another person. And I believe it’s important to maintain or develop an attitude towards life that things tend to work out. And if they don’t, then just take action. My oldest daughter is pretty prosaic and says that things work out when you get your big ass off the chair and do something. I wouldn’t quite use those words, but the idea is the same: it’s worth doing good.
• Usually, it’s quite a depressing or unpleasant life attitude to hear when someone thinks that this and that should be done for me, or that society should do this and that. There may be a seed of truth behind it, but more often, it’s better for people to think: “What can I do myself." And not just think about it, but when it [what you want to do] starts to become clear, to do it as well. “When you give, you receive.” I may have already mentioned it, but it’s a great teaching from Franciscus.
• I also believe that even difficult phases in life can be good for a person. I don’t think suffering necessarily refines us, but unpleasant phases, hard things, life experiences, can be necessary for us, because if life were always sunshine and continuous success, what kind of people would we be? Not very social, probably more selfish, thinking that everything belongs to me now and always. But when you learn to deal with the fact that not everything goes smoothly, it makes us grow. I believe it helps us understand others better when we ourselves get a little bruised and realize that things can be seen from so many angles. You can interpret the same situation in many ways. Don’t think that if some things seem to be going badly or if something is against you, it means the whole world is crashing down on you. Instead, think, "What can I learn from this? How can I move forward? Can I even laugh about this in five years?" People generally don’t want to hear about how unpleasant things can be necessary for us, or suffering, setbacks, but I believe they are. They’re part of human life and perhaps help us understand other people better. So, these were some deep thoughts, at least in my opinion, but some things may be difficult for others to accept.
• The great tragedy of life is, to quote Mark Twain, that just when you start to learn to live properly, life is already nearing its end. In a way, that’s true because if you learn something new every day… how wise one can be in old age. But there’s not much time left. I just turned 70 this summer, and in my family, we usually live to about 80, if we’re lucky. I try to fight for my health so I can live longer, but that’s in somebody else’s hands. Sometimes I wonder, knowing that life is finite and someday ends, what will future generations remember me for? Will they remember me for always doing my own thing, for having my nose stuck in a book, or something like that? Will they remember me for always coming to their birthday parties and commemorating them, or when they were younger, for holding them close? Did I have time for the most important people? Probably the people who read this would say that during the busy years, there was too little time for them. There was always something more important. So, my advice to everyone: keep your children in your arms and show them they’re important. Was there still a question?
• 00:59:43 Mira:
• We’ve covered so many wonderful answers and thoughts here that I think we’ve just gone over the hour mark. Yes.
• 01:00:10 Marja-Sisko:
• 01:00:14 Mira:
• Thank you so much.
• 01:00:15 Marja-Sisko:
• No problem. And I apologize if my voice sounds a bit odd, I have Aphthous sores in my mouth and it makes speaking a little difficult.
• 01:00:22 Mira:
• One more thing—since we have some interviews available in the Kuopio space, is it okay if we put this one there too for listening, or only in Helsinki?
• 01:00:58 Marja-Sisko:
• It’s fine by me. I don’t think there’s anything here that hasn’t been said in Kuopio.
• 01:01:14 Mira:
• Thank you very much!