April 14, 1974, Oslo, Norway

I'm 4 years old and today is abduction day. Today, I will board a plane to my new life, a life that will no include my mother or her family, her country, her religion, or her love. I will live as a mini-fugitive for the next 14 years, running from the law, running from normalcy and from a part of me, an integral part of my identity.
Today is the day that will change my life forever. I will forever feel split in two, although I will merge into a whole, into an occasionally happy person, despite the stumbling blocks my father's actions will place in my path towards growing into a trusting, healthy adult. There will always be a wound, but it will heal to the greatest extent it can heal because I will fight to make that happen. I will survive, but I could have done without the unnecessary scars today will bring.
So today, a warm Sunday, my father Herbert told my mother Tone that he was taking me to Vigelandsparken, a sculpture park in Oslo. I loved my dad, still do. He has some good qualities and he's very smart, but on an emotional level he's not very grown-up. I wish it were different. If he hadn't taken possesion of me and justified his actions that ended up hurting me and him, we'd have a good relationship today. He tells me now that a father is allowed to travel with his daughter. Um, yes, but not when it means cutting the daughter off from a part of herself, from love and from security, and from the love of the other parent.
We go to the airport and board a British Airways flight to New York City. I dimly remember looking out the window, confused. I remember my childhood as one big confusing series of events, of running, of midnight wakings and packing quickly to get away immediately, to stay one step ahead of the stranger lurking in the shadows. Usually, that stranger was my mother.
We never did go to the sculpture park. Vigelandsparken is full of sculptures of children and adults caught up in the struggles and joys of life. It is always emotional for me to visit the park today. I love and admire the sculptures. They are intense, emotionally evocative, and I feel an attachment to them. I should have gone there, instead of to the USA.