Adrian Treves My mother died a few nights ago, filled with pain, slipping into the void, finally calm after twenty days now troubled and divided by an unconscious breathing increasingly difficult.
Standoli closest I've had time to think and to force myself not to do so, to remember and to find out how the insidious now fading memories of yesterday.
Now wait a con pazienza che le immagini riemergano, che i frammenti di lei com’era – e non come l’avevano ridotta la consuetudine frettolosa e la vecchiaia – si ricompongano. Non è di questo che voglio – che posso – scrivere qui e adesso.
Ma sento di dover pagare qualche debito e dove meglio che in questo spazio dedicato al dubbio, al rifiuto di luoghi comuni facili e consolatori?
Grazie a Massimo e a Morgana, genero e nipote di Adriana: grazie per aver trovato le parole e avermi restituito mia madre come io da troppo tempo non sapevo più vederla.
Grazie a tutti coloro I have neighbors who have asked me about her and that she had spoken to friends who have written to me, winning with ease and feel the embarrassment of offering the usual condolences.
Paying the debt is the third most difficult because it is impossible to summarize in words the story and the personality of who you know forever, but I'll try. The life of my mother took most of the twentieth century. Founded in 1923, when Italy entered the Second World War was the current age of Morgana. After the war my mother met my father, his partner for life: they lived together from 1949 to 1981, the year of death di lui. Non si sono sposati prima perché lui era sposato e separato in anni in cui il divorzio non era un diritto ma soltanto un peccato (per la Chiesa) o una condizione civile inesistente. Poi la possibilità di divorziare è finalmente giunta, ma ormai tutti e tre, loro ed io, avevamo imparato a farne a meno. Compagni in senso sentimentale e in senso politico, i miei genitori hanno sognato un mondo che imparasse a vivere in pace, una società equa e giusta, nella quale il benessere che allora sembrava più raggiungibile di oggi, fosse alla portata di tutti. Allora quelli come loro li chiamavano comunisti e tali si consideravano i miei, ma sono usciti dal PCI dopo l’invasione dell’Ungheria.
Years have passed and Giancarlo and Adrian have awakened in a very different world. They were two dreamers, able to travel around the world on a Vespa but tragically inadequate to deal with a reality dominated by individual success, money, by flattery, to live a daily life mediocre.
My father died embittered in January 1981. Since then my mother has lived alone for 28 years. By itself was fine, in a sense, but it was only half of an old pair of dreamers. In recent years, but lost his grip on reality and away from their memories, the two figures remain indelible in the mind and not one has ever confused: Morgana, her granddaughter. And the execrable Papi. He would say, the Communists continue stubbornly to be among us, hiding in unexpected role, like that of an old woman vanished.
I hope through the years of the imagination in power, watched with growing dismay the shadows of terrorism and left it buttoned in his shoes increasingly strong and decent, I tightened the teeth in the eighties, those drinks. My daughter was born behind the wave of Clean Hands. So I learned to dream with caution, not to get me hopes up, I realized that even in this world security economic, the reality is very important.
But thank Adrian and Giancarlo for teaching me to dream a better world is everyone's right and that we should not abandon it.
And for giving me that bit of humor that helps me in our time.
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