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Nonna

Esattamente un anno fa è morta mia nonna. Era all’ospedale da qualche settimana e mia zia mi chiama una sera per dirmi che la situazione continuava a peggiorare. Nelle ore tra la telefonata e il primo volo disponibile, ho scritto due righe per lei, nel caso in cui non ce l’avessi fatta a salutarla. Per fortuna ce l’ho fatta, anche se era incosciente. Giá scrivendo facevo fatica a trovare le parole per salutarla, ma quando ero li e l ho vista, così piccola in quel letto grande e la faccia che mostrava già la morte, non sapevo bene cosa dire. Volevo solo abbracciarla, ma non potevo a causa delle protezioni igieniche. L’ho toccata tramite i guanti di lattice, le ho detto che c’ero. Le ho detto che poteva andare, lo sapevo che era stanca, ne aveva tutti i diritti. Quello che ho sentito è stata una tristezza profonda, un dolore forte misto a immensa gratitudine. Mi sento ancora adesso mancare la terra sotto i piedi. Perchè la gente pensa solo alla nonna. Ma mia nonna per me non era solo come una mamma, lei ERA mia mamma! Allora in quei momenti di commiato, tra il dirle quanto l’amavo e quanto la ringraziavo, le cantavo una canzone. La gente dice che adesso si ritrova in cielo con mio nonno. Ma io non ci credo, il cielo mi é sempre sembrato troppo inconsistente per contenere i morti. Sta sera ammasso la pasta come mi hai insegnato tu.


 

Exactly one year ago my grandma died. She had been in the hospital for a few weeks and my aunt called me one evening telling me that the situation kept getting worse. In the hours between the phone call and the first available flight, I wrote some lines for her, in case I didn't make it to say goodbye. Luckily I made it, even if she was unconscious. As I was writing, I was struggling to find words to greet her, but when I was there and saw her, so small in that big bed and her face already showing the death, I didn't quite know what to say. I just wanted to hug her, but I couldn't because of the hygienic protections. I touched her through the latex gloves, told her I was there. I told her she could go, she had every rights to and I knew she was tired. What I felt was deep sadness, strong pain mixed with immense gratitude. I still feel the ground slipping under my feet. Because people only think about grandma. But my grandma wasn't just like a mom to me, she WAS my mom! So in those moments of farewell, between telling her how much I loved her and how grateful I was, I sang her a song. People say that she is now in heaven with my grandfather. But I don't believe it, the sky has always seemed too insubstantial to me to contain the dead. Tonight I'm making pasta like you taught me.

 

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I am a performance artist with a background in anthropology based in Vienna.

I write for work and for fun in different formats. During my spare time I like fooling around with Social Media, making short video-performances as a tool of research and creation. I adore to question strong enfleshed cultutral concepts and, above all, myself.

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©2023 by Luigi Iesus Guerrieri.

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