Mia has a very special place in my heart. She is one of the most generous people I have ever met.
I often think back to my first years in Sweden. I had just arrived, deeply in love, and at the same time struggling to find a job and make ends meet. My wife Annika was working with Mia, helping to build a series of furniture stores across the country. I would follow along whenever I could, travelling to new cities and assembling furniture for the exhibition rooms. It also became a way for me to integrate and socialize, in a work environment, with people in a new country.
There was trust from the very beginning. And beyond that, it became an experience I still carry with me from a time that was otherwise uncertain.
That generosity has always been part of who you are. Socially, it shows in the same way. Warm, present, full of stories, a great sense of humor, and genuinely engaged in every conversation.
It was fascinating to hear more about your career, Mia. I knew parts of it, but not the full picture. You held several key roles in the creative area at IKEA, shaping how the brand came to life for millions of people around the world. Among many things, you were the creative responsible for the IKEA Catalogue, at the time the largest publication on the planet. Bigger than the Bible.
I still remember the mailboxes in Sweden:
“Please no commercials, but welcome to the IKEA Catalogue.”
Like me, Mia retired a few years ago. But while I stepped into the Second Half with ease, hers began in a very different way. Just as she was leaving IKEA, she was diagnosed with cancer.
A difficult beginning. But the good news is that this chapter is now behind her.
It was also striking how much we have in common. We both come from big families. Mine from the start. Yours suddenly, when you and your sister moved into a home with five other siblings.
Before our conversation, I knew that Strong and Independent defined your first half. But I was curious about the Second Half.
And during our hour together, it became clear. Reflecting.
Not as a pause. But as a way of understanding. Of choosing more consciously what matters, and what does not.
