Yes, there are no words. But sometimes we have to find them, to make sense of life and things. The day we brought to the cemetery my dad Battista, the great soldier of Kefalonia, survivor of the horrible nazi massacre of Acqui Division (1943), my mom Tina joined him in Heaven. Yes, my mother also passed on the day of my father’s funeral.
They lived together for over sixty-five years and together have passed away. A love story. Or a story of mystery, through which pass great and profound questions.
Suddenly you find yourself orphans, but not devoid of references and guidelines that your parents have passed and given. Yes, there are no words: only the silence of myself and many others. Only the beauty of a busy and wonderful life that they have lived together in the wake of a creed renewed day after day:
“Place me like a seal over your heart,
like a seal on your arm;
for Love is as strong as Death”
(Song of Songs 8:6).