THIS IS IT

To find yourself suddenly in a church, with all your family, to celebrate the third anniversary of your father's death. To see your little sister after more than three years, running towards you, jumping on your neck screaming your name and kissing your face. To have a lunch at the new home of your uncles, with your cousin, your grand mother, your two sisters, your nephew, the father of your nephew, like in the past, like a big family, like that home was the old one, like nothing has changed. To have your small sister sitting on your knees, asking you tons of things, asking you about Pietro... and you cannot lie to a child, you must invent a fantastic story, an imaginary movie, even if she knows that is not the truth, but she laughs and laughs. To see your mother being a grandmother, being so sweet, so right. To see your best friend dancing as a queen in the middle of the biggest stage you ever saw, with thousands people clapping for her, in one of the best show you have ever saw in your life... and beside you your sister, and your tears, and your joy. To hug your dance teacher, that made of you what you are, that made possible all you did in your life, to have a dinner at her place in a very special situation, which reminds you the day of your father's death, like in a circle, like in a magic circle, a good one, an enlightened one. To feel your father so close to you in all of this, finally so close to you. To be happy, to be together, to be adults, to be alive, to be real, to be grateful, to be full of joy. Thank you Milano, thanks to my life, thanks to my family. Thanks God. Thanks God. Thank you.