The Speaker’s speech
Your Majesties,
Ladies and gentlemen,
And particularly,
Dear survivors and relatives.
When I spoke at this very place last time, we had come together to commemorate the 25th anniversary of that stormy night in 1994 when the M/S Estonia met its fate. Now another five years have passed and we have now come to the end of three decades that have come and gone since 852 lives were extinguished in the waters of the Baltic Sea. The tree in the middle of the Estonia Monument has grown ever larger. I believe that it is important that we gather together in this way to remember those who were lost and think about those of you who were left.
30 years is a long time in a person’s life. A long time to go on living without a beloved family member or friend. A long feeling of loss.
In one of her poems, Barbro Lindgren captures the feeling that affects us all when we lose someone close to us. A feeling that thousands of people experienced after Estonia had sunk.
My sorrow
is great
my heart
heavy
as stone
my longing
cannot be contained
in the world
The terrible thing that happened that night affected us all deeply. So many people left us a long time before they had lived their lives fully.
There was no consolation to be found in the image of death as a part of the eternal cycle of life; the undramatic, almost mundane death Barbro Lindgren describes in another of her poems.
Some time we will die
you and I
All people will die
and all animals
and all trees will die
and the flowers on the ground
but
not all at once
but just from time to time
so that you hardly notice
When 852 people are snatched away all at once, it’s the complete opposite. The disaster sent shock waves right through our society and still casts long shadows around the whole of our country today. In many places there are families with an empty space where someone should have been.
The sorrow that remains following those who died on Estonia belongs to each and every one of those affected, but it is also a sorrow that is shared. Shared among the families that were affected, among the places that were affected particularly severely, among the nations that were affected.
The sorrow that remains after those who perished is also special in that early on it was combined with other feelings. Maybe anger at the lack of accountability, maybe desperation at all the conflicting information, and finally maybe the feeling that there has not been an adequate conclusion. In the parliamentary record, Estonia has been named more than 800 times during these 30 years, most recently in June this year. Documentary films and other reports have often also led to discussions in the Riksdag. Also, in the light of this, I think that these recurring memorial ceremonies fill an important function in showing that we all remember what happened 30 years ago and everything that has happened since then.
Your Majesties,
Dear friends,
Time does not heal all wounds, but when we light candles today in remembrance of those who are no longer with us, the flames will be given their power with both love and loss. We experience a feeling of loss because of our love. But the flames also find nourishment in gratitude. Gratitude for what those who were close to us meant to us.
In gratitude for a life, even if it was too short, there is also room for hope – hope for a mourner for a time when the brightness of memories eases the pain of sorrow. I hope with my whole heart that many of you who are here today can rest in this feeling now and in the future.
Let me therefore finish with this consoling thought, as it was formulated by Barbro Lindgren.
Do not cry because I am dead
I am inside you always
You have my voice
it is in you
you can hear it
when you want
You have my face
my body
I am in you
You can take me out
when you want
Everything that is left
of me
is inside you
So that we are always together
Thank you!