In three days, it will be 6 months. Half a year.
My first birthday and Gabriele’s have gone by without your phone call. And the first summer without seeing you, without you telling me how you enjoyed the images I sent you. Winter will be here soon and it will bring your birthday with it, the first where I won’t get the chance to ask myself what would make you happy. And the first Christmas without going present shopping together. Then spring will come and Chiara’s birthday with it, without you enquiring about her party. After that, the bulbs you offered me will bloom.
When March comes, the circle of these first twelve months « without » will be complete. Day after day we will have learned – more or less lightheartedly – to live with your absence and to let go of our habits together in order to make room for learning how to feel your presence differently.
In 6 months, the second « life-after » circle will begin, then the third, the fourth and so on, without us noticing. Day by day we will live our lives with your renewed presence by our sides and together, we will create new memories.
Everything will be different on the surface, of course, but maybe not so much so on the inside. Because to me it is cristal clear that you, who have taught me to love the changing seasons and their cycles, you are most certainly there, somewhere, smiling at us as you witness each new leaf sprout in our lives.
There is a time of calendars, fixed and immutable. The time invented by man and his watches.
There is a rubber-band time that goes faster or slower, depending on whether we’re happy or not.
And there is a secret, unfathomable time. An invisible clock that synchronizes the seasons of every living being that is born, lives and one day, dies.
Marveling at how these times click in different ways as we run about in a frantic way while the tiniest leafs silently sprout.
The bliss of an autumn Sunday,
in one of the most authentic flea markets in Paris.
Blessed by a golden light announcing the winter months ahead
and the unique, inimitable, smell of a time long gone.
a haze of hot days spent seeking the coolest spots at the sound of cicadas.
anaps of laughters and diving
pic-nics with friends,
hands picking wild berries,
ice creams dripping and mozzarella bubbling on our pizzas.
and bridges, many bridges crossed of course,
Going back to this square, tiptoeing. So many people, flowers, candels. Flashes and cameras everywhere as in a morbid reality show. Being tempted to back away. Finding strenght and holding one’s hand to thread sidewalks that have long been familiar and friendly. In summertime, wintertime. Alone, with friends. Eyes wide open. To not let anything go unseen. Making myself go back once, twice, three, four times until the fear is under control. Covered in new laughters and memories.
Because Life is so beautiful still. And there is still so much so see and live and cherish. Because Life isn’t shorter or more fragile today than it was before. It was and still is one blink of the eye. There are no more or less questions, or certainties. Except that there is Light and there are shadows. We only have the power to use our freedom to look for the Light even in the darkest hour. And to carry it forward.
Peace out, friends.
There is light, there are shadows. There’s a time for thinking over, evaluating, getting ready. A time for waiting, that might seem neverending and useless. But it never is. Because every time, a day comes when you wake up and it’s time for action. For actually seeing yourself doing the very thing you had geared up for for so long. So long without anything happening that you were almost loosing the faith. And there it comes, that day. And when it comes, each and every time, it takes you by surprise. As a flower deciding to bloom on a Tuesday rather than a Saturday, on a morning rather than an afternoon. It might seem by chance but it isn’t and you know it. It’s the result of countless rain drops and sun rays and chains of events, some of which are visible and some will never be known. And it’s utterly amazing, isn’t it? But even more amazing is the fact that on that day everything suddenly appears cristal clear and simple. Oh so very simple. And even though you are scared and you don’t know how you’re going to do it, deep down inside you’re at peace, finally, because you know, once again, that everything is gonna be just fine.
Wishing you a sweet evening friends
There are days when you’re in one of the places you love the most, at the hour that you prefer and with a camera on hand. People pass you by, friends may speak to you but you’re only half there. Your mind eager with anticipation.
And maybe it’s because you know you won’t get more chances for weeks or months, but you just wait for that moment that could – should – be about to happen as the most precious gift.
And if you’re lucky enough for it to happen while you’re right there waiting on the first row, that the Roman light turns that particular shade of gold and slowly paints the water below, the walls, the leaves – you just feel your heart might burst and you’re at a loss for words. There you remember exactly why you so often bother to carry a camera with you. Because one needs a tool to share the world, its light and shadows, whenever words are just not enough.
Sweet evening friends.