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.
Even more so, after the recent sad news, let us celebrate this amazing, fleeting gift that is life. It’s a drop in the ocean yes, but there’s nothing more one can do than to try and lead by example in one’s life.
This light that I would recognize everywhere
This unique atmosphere
and these two persons who call me mama.
Much has happened ever since
But it’s enough to remind me
of the boundless grace I am blessed with
There are moments when words become heavy stones sinking to the bottom instead of reaching the surface, which remains perfectly still. Looking down, you can see them laying down there.
Let it be silence then. Giving time to time. Stitch by stitch, tracing back the original thread. For what it may mean, that’s where I’m at now.
May the start of this new year bring you:
« …the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and wisdom to know the difference »
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.
When there ain’t much to say, except there is a whole lot to feel.
« I threw my cup away when I saw a child drinking from a stream with his hands »