Remarkable Danes I Know

And the way they have always quietly loved me

Yesterday, Karl and I had the privilege (treat, delight!) to join some special friends for a very special lunch. You might even call it a luncheon, if you are of an era where your mother used those words and tables were set just so and every detail was just so.

I’ve been friends with Tina and Jill since 7^th grade. That’s no small thing! We met at Minnetonka West Junior High in the late 1970s. Tina and Jill were already friends and then I met Tina in Home Ec class, which was right after my gym class. Me, being the sporty little girl I was, with short slick swimmer’s hair, came bouncing into Home Ec to learn some sort of nonsense, and I plopped down at a shared table, across from Tina. She looked at my slick hair, and in her dry and witty way, said “Hey Fonzie.”

Props to the ones that get that reference.

We became fast friends, and I met Jill through her, and these were the friends I needed at this exact time in this exact place. Surviving junior high, and then high school, was possible because of these friendships. We are all so very different – I am outgoing, confident, sassy, always in trouble for talking too much, and full of rebellious good fun, where Tina is brilliant, dry, hilarious, more cautious, and wise beyond years, and Jill (the other Jill!) is serious, smart, focused, utterly unwavering in her values, and has a fire to match her gorgeous red hair. We were an excellent trio.

Top photo 1985, high school graduation. Bottom photo 2025, still fabulous.

Being friends with Tina meant becoming part of her family, and here’s where today’s story goes . . .

Tina’s parents, Bent and Anne Lise, were born and raised in Denmark. They were married for a million years, immigrated to the US, had three kids, and settled in the suburb of Chanhassen. Their household was the exact opposite of mine, and I could not be more fascinated with how their family lived. Bent was a club/restaurant manager, which meant he worked late most nights, arriving home when my parents would have been going to bed. Anne Lise would be puttering around, ready for a late dinner and music and conversation. Theirs was a truly European household, filled with music, laughter, books, good food, drinks, where the vibes grew higher as the night went on. Compared to my strict, quiet, early-dinner early-bed low-noise don’t-sit-on-the-good-furniture household, Tina’s house felt like heaven.

Her brother was a musician, and would get home late from gigs. While we were messing around, watching Friday Night Videos or SCTV or SNL and eating bowls of sugary cereal, Mike came in after midnight, and would either put on records from his massive collection, or practice his trombone until the wee hours. The house was always, always full of music.

Tina’s parents were happy to see us girls, and always glad to provide a space where we could be ourselves – loud, silly, calling boys, going for midnight walks, and driving to the gas station late to get more shitty snacks. We were as safe and cared for as any home of the era, but felt a freedom of trust that was rare for me to find.

We grew up. Jill went far away to college and it nearly killed Tina and me. We chose the U of MN and were roommates freshman year. It was great to live with my best friend – no awkward figuring out of space and habits. What a year we had! I joined a sorority, Tina made new friends in the dorm, and we stayed close. It was me that introduced Tina to her first pot smoking adventure, and she was there to talk to me after my first sex with a stupid frat boy. We called Jill regularly from our dorm phone.

Time moves on, people go different directions, and sometimes changes are huge. Jill went to Finland to teach math, and met and married a Finn. Tina had a baby not long after college, and I got married, joined a cult, and had six kids in rapid succession. Our friendship waxed and waned, and when I was on the other side of some pretty bad life experiences, these two were still there for me. Tina quietly accepted all my nonsense, knowing I would come back to myself eventually. Jill held my feet to the fire in the way I needed most, but beautifully opened her arms and heart fully when I was me again.

And now, 45 years after we first started our friendship adventure, we are about to embark on an adventure we’ve talked about since 10^th grade.

When we were 14, Tina’s parents invited both of us Jills to join them on their annual summer trip back to Denmark. I was beyond thrilled, and for a completely unknown reason, my parents agreed to let me go. A flight across the ocean! A new country! Unheard of things in my sheltered life!

But, as things went with my mom, she changed her mind and squashed the trip for me. Something about not liking the idea of three young teenage girls getting in trouble in another country, blah blah blah. I was devastated. The other Jill got to go, and I stayed home.

HOWEVER, time heals all and in the year of our lord two thousand and twenty six, the three of us girls are off to Denmark in a few weeks! We’ll visit Tina’s family, explore some smaller cities, scatter her dad’s ashes (sadly, he passed away a few years ago), and then meet up in Copenhagen with my husband Karl and Jill’s husband Matti. It will be a grand, grand adventure!

So what about the luncheon I opened this with?

Yesterday, Tina’s mom, age 90, invited me, Karl, Jill, and Matti to her house for a very Danish lunch at 2pm. Tina’s brother Rene was there as well. The seven of us tucked into a three hour lunch of Smorrebrod (open-faced sandwiches), rye bread, herring, smoked fish, shrimp, ham, chicken fricassee, aquavit, Danish beer, fruit, cheese, and so much dill. The table was set beautifully, each course was served with an introduction, and we even sang a song in the middle. Anne Lise wrote lyrics set to the tune of “On Top of Old Smokey” several years ago for a friend, and we had song sheets on the table so we could all participate. And participate we did! I think the aquavit helped with some of the voices . . .

The sweetest table

We talked about growing up, the wonderful days and nights in this home where we now sat at nearly age 60, and laughed about the fun and naughty things we did. I told Anne Lise, as I have many times before, that their home was a welcome respite for me, a place to be myself and not worry about breaking rules or making a mess. It helped me tremendously in those awkward early teen years of finding identity, wondering where we all fit in, and understanding who we might become. The Paulsen home was a place for all of that, and I will be grateful my whole life for knowing these beautiful people and being loved by them.

We left the table and our friends very happy, very full, and very excited for our trip ahead. Tina’s mom and brother, who have been to Denmark dozens of times, wished us a very hearty bon voyage, and we promised to take a million pictures and text them along the way.

All these years later, being with people like this is a balm to my soul. We are a like-minded bunch who share the values of human rights and common sense. We can talk about anything and everything, and we are all well-read and duly informed about the goings on in the world. Do we agree on everything? Absolutely not. But on the topics that matter, on the basics of human decency and the interest of democracy and peace, we are aligned. It’s a relief to not walk on eggshells with people, and never have to skirt topics. No uncomfortable silences. Just love and laughter and ideas and art and beauty and plenty of sass.

Thank you, Tina and Jill, and Bent and Anne Lise, for these memories and the ones to come. Thank you for loving me just as I am, and was, and am still becoming. I am glad to belong at your table.

On a walk, a couple weeks ago