My father died after 54 years as a complicated and difficult to bring a smile never marked by doubts. Did not agree. I am getting older in particular about him at my age today: some signs of the hands, a look in the mirror, in a tone of voice.
This thing I do not like it at all. Since
I have a legacy he left Christmas: had a friend, a Milanese known to military service in Friuli in their twenties.
was the beginning of the sixties and must have been moments of great discovery and sharing of the world. This guy I saw him only twice, as a child. People who had more middle-class conceit, more of us.
I meet him, that friend away, just before the bed of my dying father. Since then the man decided that I am my father.
Every year, Christmas Eve, he calls. Talk to me twenty minutes of the things that I do not know and a time when I was not born yet. He used the tone of camaraderie that is wrong with him and even called me by name. He says "Do you remember that guy? That ... there ?..." exactly as he had.
I never shared my father's choices. I always hated cordially. Now that there are more peaceful, I fixed the things I had open.
But every year I hear a voice that speaks of him as a wonderful person and speaks of it as I've never heard of. I do not recognize in these stories of friendship lasting more than the natural expiration. Rest in silence in front of the devotion of a man who is alien to me and he calls every now and then from far away and for a short time.
It 's a devotion which is not even comparable to mine, which is almost absent. Twenty minutes. Not one more. Also this morning.
Talk says , almost crying. He dismisses and calls me his name, then corrects himself.
put down. It was not me who wanted to talk.
It was not me that he needed.
My father called me for so long only once a year, on Christmas Eve.
was the only gesture that he felt towards me to do, given the obvious hostility that's confidential.
That phone call made by nine miles distant and cold as the Bering Strait, cost him a lot, but if ever denied. A point of honor.
"Hello son, your father is doing well. Let yourself be heard in a while. How's your mother? Valla find. At least you. Hello son, Merry Christmas" For someone like
Metuccio, was to be a great effort.
afterlife.
so great that it still has not sold out completely.
Offlaga Disco Pax - twenty minutes
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