Monday morning, after traveling all night, we are finally on the ferry at a time of Ischia. Let us not disturb the sea under eight, the flood that has invaded our city, from the fatigue that creeps bully. We are together, we're going on vacation for a week, this is sufficient. We look smiling, Fred, as usual, winks, hugs me, our children throw jokes, play with words. We are tossed like a Tagada the air is filled with an acid smell, but we're still watching the gulls, the wake of the ship, the scattered islands. There is also the television in a corner, flat screen giant. I wonder if in a natural setting that takes your breath away it was necessary to divert the passengers in this way. It 's a moment. The time to build a quick look on the screen, I realized that they are projecting the news, to understand that they're talking about my own city, to realize what the reporter is saying. It 's a moment. Then tragedy invades us: they have killed a mother and a child whom we know very well, living in our country. Their house collapsed due to a landslide caused by incessant rain of the last hours. Her husband, the father, it is split hands in an attempt to save them, take them out of the mud in his ears the crying of her two year old child, who certainly has thought only to hear ... The trip on the ferry from Naples to Ischia will remember for years to come, as a perfect metaphor for life, I repeat, at least a thousand times, that even with millions of reasons to let go of sadness, I had an obligation to my children, to my husband, to myself, respond to and enjoy those days as scheduled, a beautiful island I visited for the first time. We lived a dream day with the sun that allowed us to share outdoor bath, thermal water, beneficial, hot. We granted a relaxing massage scented almond oil, made even more attractive and dim lights and soft music. The vital force of instinct has played in this week, with the anguish of the death of those we love. I have often thought that his father, the teenage daughter who was saved just because she had gone with friends to celebrate Halloween, pain in the face of insurmountable loss. I remember them together, usually saw them on the beach, united, especially in their normal, like many a family. I thought even more to my pain, not deny it. I identified, as is typical human selfishness, and I thought about how I could live with such a loss. Nestled in the warmth of the waters almost amniotic engaged by the beauty of the beach of Sant 'Angelo, enchanted by the imposing of the Aragonese Castle, I stopped thinking about the fragility of life, its emptiness. And, as often happens to me in similar circumstances, while tapping the helplessness I felt the mystery of human existence, the possibility that there are potential unknown, which, in the face of pain so deep, there come unexpected and comforting, like a mother always ready to look after her, in spite of us.
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