29.12.2006
I'm HOME
I'm HOME FEBRUARY 9th 1976 I leave Grensas, the Rehabilitation Ward of the Borgarspitali for the last time hopefully as a patient. The only facility for rehabilitation in my home-town was then only the one that you created yourself or at a small station that two women owned and ran down on Tungata. For a few times I went there for training. They say that walking is really good for you and therefore they recommended outdoor walking so as to strenghten my body and soul. At first my walking is very devious like that of someone who has been drinking a lot of alcohol, and I couldn't have walked a straight line for a million dollars. For that reason my parents have to stand by my side once again, now on my short travels in the neighbourhood so as to make sure that I didn't kill myself in the traffic. The usual walking-courses were the closest Haholt, Lyngholt, Skolavegur and further, just as my growing strength and ability allowed me. Many a times we were stopped on our trips, Sometimes such a situation becomes comical like once when I was rumbling and drooling at my mother's side going down Skolavegur, when an active looking middle-aged woman winds herself towards us and starts a conversation with mother, at the same time as I try my best standing still at her side. There comes a moment in their chatting when the Mrs. asks: -And how's your son? Mum points at me instantly answering with another question: -Why don't you ask himself? The Mrs. drops her face of course, but picks it up before anyone notices and points the question at me. I close one nostril before I answer the lady in a usual way, that I were in good health. It's not customary for Icelanders to reveal their sorrows and pain.
streets:
either by people that were acquainted with us and others that somehow knew that mum's son had been in a terrible accident.