Sarah Nigbor

In past columns, I’ve talked about my Finnish heritage. I am half Finnish (on my dad’s side) and one-quarter Swedish, one-quarter Norwegian on my mom’s side.

I grew up knowing much more about my mother’s side, as we lived with her parents. It didn’t help that my parents divorced before I turned 2 and my dad died not long after from a heart attack at age 42. My mom did not keep in touch with his family and I knew almost nothing about them until I was 20. But that’s another story for a different day.

My story has a happy ending. I met my dad’s side of the family when I was in my 20s and developed a good relationship with my aunts, uncle, cousins and grandpa. My grandma had died four years prior to our reunion.

Imagine my surprise when I learned my dad’s family were farmers and miners in Minnesota’s Iron Range. The first time I went there, it seemed like a foreign country. The giant machinery, the deep mine pits filled with sky-blue water ringed by verdant evergreens, the Finnish road names.

My grandpa Ero was the epitome of a taciturn, tough Finn. He was a small man, but he seemed much taller. He was heavily muscled, even in his 80s, and spoke with a thick accent. He exercised daily by running up and down his basement stairs.

I’ll never forget sitting across from him at his kitchen table for the first time, as he sized me up with his bright blue eyes. I was so scared he wouldn’t like me or want to know me, but I was so wrong. He studied me silently then pronounced me a true Finn, since I was drinking his thick black coffee without complaint. He baked me a pasty for dinner and informed me that true Finns drink their brandy straight up without ice. Or a mixer. I obliged, much to his delight. With him that day I finally found the missing piece of myself.

From him I learned the joy of jumping in a cold northern Minnesota lake after taking a sauna (pronounced sow-nah) and the intriguing concept of Sisu, which is said to have no true equivalent in the English language. Sisu has been described as stoic determination, tenacity, grit, bravery, resilience and hardiness all rolled into one. It allows a person to keep going, physically or mentally, when most people would have quit.

On Jan. 8, 1940 Time magazine spoke about Finnish Sisu and the country’s collective ability to keep fighting with a will to win.

“Last week the Finns gave the world a good example of Sisu by carrying the war into Russian territory on one front while on another they withstood merciless attacks by a reinforced Russian Army.”

While I have never battled a Russian Army, I understand deep in my bones this concept. My Swedish grandpa always said I was as stubborn as a mule, but I think it’s something more than that. I’m not saying other people don’t possess Sisu, because I’m sure there is an equivalent in many cultures, but for me, Sisu is knowing that no matter what happens, I will survive it and I will come out better and stronger than ever. Part of that is my strong faith, so I like to think God is entwined in Sisu. Whenever a heavy situation arises, I feel a deep sense of calm come over me and it’s like something takes over. I felt that this weekend, after receiving a terrible phone call about something that had happened. I wish I could give details for context, but I have to protect people’s privacy. Let’s just say without Sisu, I would have crumbled and this paper wouldn’t be going out this week, at least with my help.

Is Sisu something only us fortunate Finns possess? I don’t know. But I know it’s something real and special. I would love to hear moments when your Sisu, or equivalent, has carried you through. Email me at sarah@piercecountyjournal.news