”In Sweden, I will always be invalid”.
Despite his choice of words, my father through out a laugh. Instead it ends up with a mediocre smile. I have no words to reply something sensible and it will be quiet in the apartment.
I will visit him in his studio outside of Södertälje. Firstly the apartment was far too small for an adult and two children, but similarly, I disliked the fact that my father was bad with money. The uncertainty of the residential area, the half-empty freezer, and the used furniture showed clearly that his salary is not enough. A reason why he lacked the revenue was that he was missing large parts of the sensation in the right hand, after a work related injury from one of the restaurants he worked at.
My father, Italian that makes its way on the bumpy Swedish, have never felt that he belongs to the society. Despite the fact that he has had family, friends, and colleagues in Sweden, have no he the feeling of belonging. My dad has never voted in the Swedish elections. I can hardly believe that he knows how it goes. He hang out rarely with friends who are not Italian or Latin american origin.
he stayed in the one outside Södertälje. When I read the book ”Who killed my father”, by the author Édouard Louis, I think of my father during the reading. To live in a country, but to feel like a part of the society, for over 20 years, leaving with the highest probability imprint on the human being.
When I finally find something to answer, I ask how he plans to do next. By selling the apartment he is planning to buy a house two hours outside of Rome. Stockholm is both cold and lonely. It fascinates me how a human being can end up outside the society in spite of a whole life in one and the same city. Similarly, how the only reasonable solution seems to be to move away.
my younger self, I appreciate nowadays how strong my father is, who, despite his sense of alienation, has remained the same. Rather than pining after a Svenssonpappa, I am glad to have a father who speaks significantly higher than the man in the street when we walk on the town. That rarely hesitates before he takes the spot, or ask straight questions. Despite the fact that some people looking curiously at him.
Raffaella Lindstrom is a reporter at Today's News and hope that fewer people feel forgotten in the future of Stockholm.
When rain falls over the Odenplan betonggator, the scent spreads throughout the body.