In the last few days I inherited a number of books that appartained to my cousin. Despite the fact that two years have gone since she has left us, we were all greatly moved by the feeling we were somehow violating that universe that was so personal. From that search unattended treasures came to surface, treasures from childhood forgotten in the dark of a humid basement.
I took those books in my hands with the feeling that all the tenderness of the world was in them: they could see all her joy as a kid, all the hesitations of her first readings, all the smiles and the tears. I came only later, when she was almost a teenager, and I remember how much I was envying her for all those books filled with warm and soft illustrations, with all the warmth and softness typical of the images from the 50s and 60s, I wouldn't be able to describe the feeling they gave me differently.
While I was trying to find some room for those little treasures that still smell mould and distant afternoons at the beach, here I see it, hidden in an old Mary Poppins' edition: a little letter, a treasure in the treasure! Discovery of discoveries that made me see old faded images. I can't avoid copying it here, because it implies all that childish freshness and that simplicity of feelings and that greatness I had already mentioned in other posts.
"Dear Marina,
we received the letter you sent lately, and the postcard as well.
I have heard that you are feeling better and, breathe well the air from the sea, as when you will be back in Parma you will breathe foggy air.
For Saint Lucy's day we remembered you and we thought to give you a Mary Poppins book for a present.
Pray that I am sure you will laugh much when you'll read it, like you did when you were with us.
How are you now?
And when will you be back?
Kisses and hugs your
friend
Biki
S.Lazzaro, December 12th 1965"
Well, today I want to remember her like this...
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