looms a week, so intense I start writing to make a full of energy able to give me the strength not to surrender. I'll be back from school at three in the afternoon, lunch and try to silence a new headache, not know if any women or indisposition caused by the vortex of thoughts that I get drunk in months. Already scattered my papers and my books on the kitchen table as a reminder to a lot of work to be done as goad to my laziness, as a reproach to the unwillingness of the last days. I have to pick up the thread of my many jobs for the boys, not yet started and completed, interrupted by indolence that really can not explain, by my being focused on other things, taken as a whole are battling unsuccessfully with an army too well armed with worries and concerns.
I traveled by car rather than take the train today, to give me an hour and a half hours of sleep, to be free from expectations unnerving station, to be able to get home an hour pretty decent. Journey of thoughts and memories. I wanted to stop and greet the Hospice nurse who accompanied us on that terrible month, are days that I'd do it, but every time I go up the ramp of the expressway, that "Grosseto center" that indicates the path towards' hospital, the foot pushes on the accelerator and automatically prevents me to turn right. So I see my eyes away from that big huge building that houses the suffering of many who welcomed my mother with an immense love, cuddling up to the last day, and I feel that they are not yet ready to cross that door and come back with the body in a place that I have not abandoned the thought. Because in the end though always around from one extreme to another in this beautiful coast, I am always in the closet and goes over the space, I can still feel the smell, and I still see her in that bed, always serene, always smiling, convinced that he would come home, unable to believe that she is abandoning them to go somewhere, happy to live this wonderful life despite the pain, suffering, legs properties that allowed it to make even one step. Then while driving home with his smile in my mind, I really think this is the best gift that my mother did to me: his smile always at all times, lifting her eyes to heaven and enjoy a sunny day, his unbounded love for all. So my solitary thoughts, spontaneously materialized in my face finally relaxed, have flown a year ago, in December to a sunny back from another hospital and I saw it, straight out of an operating room, walk past the cemetery and take game and then fly to center to buy a dress for a party around the corner, waiting for toast to a new year, perhaps the last.
I have no consolation to death, I closed the door to transcendence, my atheism leaves me silent in the face of his death and I do not live in my mother's no heaven, no supercelestial, if not that of my soul, so now colonized by his presence. And I saw her today, I felt more than ever. And I heard you ask me not to complicate this difficult journey inauguratosi by his loss and suffering more, so much aggressive as superfluous. I heard her ask me to shake these pains, these anxieties and enjoy every moment without paralyzed in an unreasonable and unwarranted expectation, without fixed in a heated imagination that makes me give birth to things that are not here and that makes me paint people who accompany me with colors that are not their own, building it in my image and likeness, only to discover that none of this failure is that the fruit of my imagination. Guido and I think, feel, continuous to speak, to ask questions noisy waiting to dig into my consciousness its written response to me. And now she finally invited me to smile, not to suffer this nonsense, not to weep for those who simply proves himself, not to be angry for the fall, once again, the pitfalls of my desires. I see my city coming up, are so immersed in the thoughts that I drive more than the usual output (that is, by chance, not to exceed in order to read the name ????) and I enjoy the sight of the sea, the island Elba, Corsica in the distance and let myself in a whisper that comforts me, that reassures me. I think what you have taught me not to let trapped by false problems, reflect on forza con cui lei abbia riso in faccia alla malattia e sbeffeggiato il dolore e canticchio fin sotto casa:
“ meraviglioso, ma come non ti accorgi di come il mondo sia meraviglioso
persino il tuo dolore potrà guarire poi
meraviglioso
ma guarda intorno a te
che doni ti hanno fatto
ti hanno inventato il mare
Tu dici non ho niente
ti sembra niente il sole
la vita, l'amore....”
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