I am never ready for departures, detachments and farewells.
What scares me most of the time that passes is losing the people who are close to me and whom I love.
Today I said goodbye to Lorenzo.
It is the last day he will come to the facility where he is being followed as the family, for work reasons, has communicated to the team his definitive transfer to Genoa.
"Lorenzo, today we say goodbye, you know ..."
"I have to study geography, tomorrow they ask me ..."
"Okay, I'll help you."
He takes the geographical map of Italy and shows me our region.
“This is where we are now. Do you know where I'm going this weekend? "
"Here ... look a bit, there is also the sea." I point to Genoa on the map.
"You know I don't care about the sea ... I don't even want to go!" He gets up abruptly from his chair.
"See you no more!"
He keeps looking at the map and shows me with his fingers how little distance there is between the two cities.
"You have to say hello to me because we don't see each other anymore, so today I want to give you the key to all the doors, when you use it we could meet ..."
I can hardly hold back the tears.
I really wish I could tell this little boy that magic exists and we can use it to meet whenever we want, but the sad truth is that sadly I'm not the child he wants me to be. He does not know, of all the times that, in his company, he made me return a carefree and smiling child and all the good that he gave me.
Today I can no longer be that child and he must understand that this is a greeting, a goodbye for both of us.
“Lorenzo, the key that opens all the doors and takes you wherever you want, unfortunately it doesn't work with the grown-ups. But we can write letters, you will tell me anything you want. You can call me on the phone and with your mom we will find a way to meet again. "
"You do not love me anymore! Because?"
"I love you so much, but today, we have to say goodbye ..."
Lorenzo runs to hug me and, at this point, I cry ...
“You're really a little girl, grown-ups don't cry! I'll give you the key anyway, maybe then it works… ”A smile escapes me through tears.
This time it is Lorenzo who is crying in my arms.
He understood that we are saying goodbye ...
Now, I need someone who also makes the little girl in me understand, why people always go away and why it always hurts so much ...
“Ask me why I go to the mountains. Ask me why, when the rest is tight, the only way is the path. Ask me.
- Why?
- Because in the mountains you can't waste your breath on useless words. You have to keep it to get to the top, and the rest is silence or kind words.
Because the only weight is the backpack. There is no burden on the heart.
Because everyone, if they wish, can reach the top. Just one step after another.
Because you meet people who still find a moment to say goodbye.
Because there are no trappings: there is you and there is your body, which you must keep and take care of, if you want to have the strength. There is the sky with its moods. Don't mess with rain, wind, snow or night. You have to be very careful, and go back to that primitive stage where nature and its movements were part of your life, an integral part of your daily life. You cannot snub nature in the mountains: it pulls you by the sleeve, asks you to look at it, to study it, to be present to it.
In the mountains you can and must be present to yourself, without distractions.
Perhaps this is why, over so many peaks, mobile phones and the internet work in fits and starts… it is nature that tells you:
“Forget the superfluous. Stay with friends. Stay with the animals. Stay with yourself. You don't need anything else".
There are nights like the one just passed when the mountain calls me and does it with a more intense voice than the others. There is a bond between me and the rock, which is not made of strength and resistance, but its texture has always been engraved in my blood with small rivulets of icy air that smear my flesh with inexplicable tremors of love .
“You loved her, didn’t you?” He sighed. “How can I answer you? She was crazy, ”he smiled, lost in some memory. She ran a hand through her hair: “God, she was all crazy. Every day I woke up next to a different woman, once enterprising, the other awkward. Once exuberant, the other shy. It was a thousand women, her. But the scent was always the same, unmistakable. That was my only certainty. It was the scent of the journeys he still had to make, he told me. I asked her what she meant but she never explained it to me. He smiled at me and knew he was fooling me with that smile. Because I swear to you that when he smiled I didn’t understand anything anymore, man. I didn’t understand anything anymore. I could no longer speak or think. Nothing, zero. Suddenly there was just her. She was crazy “she laughed” all crazy. Sometimes he got lost looking at a globe or a painting, it took hours for him to come to his senses. And that mania of hers for always wearing pants … I’ve never seen her with a skirt, you know? Sometimes she cried at night. They say that in that case the women just want a hug. Not her. She got nervous being near me in those moments. She got dressed and stayed in the garden all night, and woe betide her. She was ordering me to leave her alone. I heard her cry, even today I am convinced that she was talking to someone, in those terrible nights. There was something about her, my friend. I don’t know what, but she wasn’t a normal girl. There was something about her, or there were other girls about her, I still can’t tell you today. But I remember she was at my wedding. We were on the church square, she was hidden. She had her red suit, a suitcase in her hand, an elegant hat. What are you doing here? I asked her. And you, guess what she did? He smiled at me. I wanted to congratulate you, he told me. But I never invited you to my wedding, how did you know? I know everything, he replied. Yes, I know. Are you leaving? It was. Where do you go? Street. Street where? I don’t know, I’m going to dream about something. Can’t you dream here? I’m looking for dreams somewhere else. She was crazy, my friend. She was all crazy and had a smile to take your breath away. And what do I know if I loved her? How many women have I loved in her? I bet he still has that scent and that smile, and I bet he only wears pants even now that it’s been years. I also bet she is looking for dreams somewhere in the world and that I might find her in front of my house someday. It was terrifying, man. And I loved her so much.
THE PRODIGY OF IDEAS 