Dad was a fighter. Not in the sense that he was aggressive. No, He, fought for his life from the beginning and he won, until it was time to go. It started when he was 3 weeks old. He got diphtheria. We call it the Children´s disease , He was a twin and my grandmother had to keep them apart in the little apartment she had. The other brother was not ill.

They were the youngest in the family. My grandparents had 3 other children. This little 3 weeks old baby was fighting for his life. The parents thought he was dieing so they got the pastor to Christen him at home. Here it is called a shorter Christening which was given to dying babies.

My fathers name was to be Sigurbergur like his uncle but the pastor forgot the ur at the end so my father became Sigurberg. I personally think that it is a much more beautiful name. Father was called Beggi all his life. So is my son too. My father lived as you know, otherwise I would not be talking about him. Life was different in Reykjavík when he grew up. The town was much smaller and every one knew each other.

At least in sight. Dad grew up like all other kids here. They did not start school until 10 but they were supposed to be reading then. Taught at home and I think most were. After all we have always been a book nation.

When dad was 19 he got very bad case of rheumatism . He could not move. He got over that.
My dad never complained and you would never know if there was something wrong with him. He always fought all these diseases he got and he won.

 He started soon after that to work for the Steamship Company of Iceland. It is a big company and has no steamships of course. He did many jobs there but was always title a worker.

 He never wanted to be a foreman but he had the offers. He worked for this company for 50 years but had to give it up one year before he meant to because of his health. He was then 69 and meant to work until 70. He lived to be 83.

When he was 60 his heart was very bad. He was sent to a hospital in London because at that time they could not do the operation they did on him here. It was successful and when he came home he went for long walks to get his strength back. Always so, fighting never sparing him self.

Dad had a good sense of humour. He was even-tempered and very good to children. He called me all kinds of names that I can not translate and said things that are also untranslatable because they are phrases. I have noticed that I talk the same way to children.

He loved dancing and that’s how mom and dad met, dancing. They were always in love and their marriage was a good one. Dad really carried mom on his hands. Mom was a homemaker.

 I remember the days when dad took me out in my push cart. He would let me drive it and he talked to me. It was such fun. I also had a seat on his bike and he sang to me , you are daddies girl. when we came near the house where we lived I asked dad not to sing so loud the kids might hear him. I liked his singing but I was embraced. I might have been four. Dad going on his bike to work. Having a kind of a clip or a peg to tighten the legs of his trousers so they would not get caught in the wheel’s spikes. Dad walking with me and not seeing that he led me into a puddle. Me in my fine shoes, laughing. Me walking with mum and dad looking at the moon thinking it was following us. Or me walking with them and looking trough my umbrella at the light from the light post. There are endless memories.

 Dad build the house. We were then living in a very small apartment but I did not suffer. We were fine. It must have taken him two years before we moved in. The house was not completely ready when we moved in but that’s how people did it in those days. He was in his early 30’s when we moved in and he lived there the rest of his life.

 But he was in hospitals a lot in the end.

He did not want to go abroad but after he had gone to the hospital in England mom and he went all over. Among other place they went to London, Jersey, Germany and Austria a lot to Spain and they did a tour of the US and Canada. Dad was a very well liked man. He never boasted and was not showing up in any way. He was just calm and nice. He read a lot. He was always working and always doing something, either in the garden or maybe helping others. He was my dad.

On the pictures dad is two, dad at work and with mum in his 40´s and in about 75 or so