Diary of a forgetfulness #3

Each time you repeat the same story, I give you a tight hug. One of those given like you “taught” me so many times when I was little.

These hugs have superpowers, so they are preferable to the instinctive and usual: “you have told so many times…”

I also repeat, over and over again, how much I like to hear your boyish adventures, which look like they come out of an adventure book.

You are a charming storyteller: you can only illuminate a room with the word, and induce in all the occupants the dream of a childhood to run freely in your farm. As a matter of fact, you always ended up grabbing your grandmother’s skirts.

You were her favorite grandson, and today, you are almost always moved when you speak of her tenderness.

So also, every time you ask the same question many times, I will answer you first with a kiss, and then we will give space to the words.

We are learning to live with your forgetfulness, always hand in hand.

We open the door to the necessary help, we knock on others that need opening.

Everything is alright.


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