Welcome to IdaTV
News Flash; Another egg
Ida is not with us anymore.
My best friend is gone. Seventeen years with this beautiful mind was a privilege, but alas, too few.
Ida suddenly become very ill. Her ailments had been emerging for some time, but she had hidden them very well. A day in the clinic confirmed that she had to go through an extremely complicated surgery.
We got her back for the most precious eighteen hours before the operation. Hours to be valued as gold. Ida did spend the evening with us in front of the TV and did what she usually did... Made her feathers look great as she did make us look great. No sign of illness except that she was noticeably more kind to us, sensing our sadness. In the morning she fixed Ylva's hair, she would never stop, snuggled to get close to her and catching her tears. I then took the last pictures of Ida (three in this page), some on the evening and some in the morning, waiting for the transport.
No effort or resources where spared to help her through the illness. The surgery lasted for an hour and a half and was finished, but her problems where too complicated to be completely solved. Her little body could not handle the impact; she died before waking up. Even if she had made it, she would only have lasted for a week or so.
It was a rainy and extremely gray day when we started our journey, after her death and a final farewell, I stepped out, in tears, to a Stockholm with clear blue skies and a beautiful sunshine. She left us 2003-01-21 14.10 (01/21 2003 2.10 pm)
Ida will be cremated and spread in the wind this summer on the island she loved so much.
I miss her so much.
Bo K. Engelbrecht
I barely lift my Breakfast Spoon
When, too soon, it's turned to Afternoon
A better Term is 'Aftermath'
For after Love and after Bath
I turn around to say 'Be Good!'
to Find you Slipped Out while you could
and left me here to Face the Day
all Alone in Every Way
(Marlin Wright)
minns mig en sommardag
bjuden på fest
resa till ö, långt ut i havet
möttes av vänner, trevnad och mygg
Där i ett träd, utan blad på dess grenar
sitter en goja, så stolt, skådande ut.
med blick likt en örn, hon bevakar reviret,
skyddar oss alla, vi kan vara trygga.
Ryktet bland fiskmås,
att här skall man sig passa,
en Goja här vakar, med själ likt en örn.
Jag minns med vemod ett par fötter på min axel,
ett litet huvud mot mitt,
en näbb mot mitt öra,
en kaffekopp i handen
omgiven av vänner och trevnad.
en afton på ön.
Ida har nu givit sig av
brett ut sina vingar
en vit liten Goja med själ likt en örn.
stor tomhet, stor saknad hon lämnar bakom,
men ändå vi känner en trygghet i luften,
vi vet att hon bara utökat reviret,
hon brer sina vingar över oss alla,
jagar bort faror, likt den örn hon alltid varit.
Kanske att man ibland kan henne ana,
en skugga på väggen, en bris i ett träd,
en krusning bland molnen, ett beskyddande rop,
ett sus av vingar över husens tak.
Med nyputsad skrud och utfällda vingar,
hon glider nu bort, men finns ändå kvar.
(Peter Achour)
Visitors on this temporary site
I will rebuild this site, adding tons of pictures covering her history.
