Flying together as one

This is the English version of this article (and part of the book I’m writing on Robin Williams)

Questa è la versione inglese di questo articolo (e parte del mio libro su Robin Williams).

Flying together as one

So you’ve come into my dreams at last. I knew it was just a matter of time, although I seldom remember them, and when I do, lately, it’s usually in a vague, hazy way. Yet that night’s dream was so clear, one of those in which when you wake up you have to refocus for a moment, realize what’s actually reality, and what is not. A dream that was so gentle, so graceful, I might say, that I felt a touch sad when I woke up, but at the same time, it got across its sweet taste throughout my day, giving me more determination, stronger desire and passion for everything I’m doing and going to do.

It’s the sense of taking care of things; of walking, at the slow pace of the sun and of air, that very road you’ve been guiding me on for so long. It’s the feeling of your fingers wrapped around mine, the tenderness that protects me from cold weather, your making a home of any place, your being a haven for ships yet to come and for those that are going to leave again. It’s the ability to turn yourself into silence to listen to the world, and into words to understand it. It’s the hand that fills with a light but solid presence, the derangement of when you change your course so as not to betray the sea. It’s the shiver, given by fear, but not without a sort of secret happiness, of one who’s suspended on a wire, several meters above the earth, and now and then takes an acrobatic jump between the objective reality of things and the poetry of instants. Because for me, you’ve always been there, and always caught me in perfect time for the terror of the void to make way for the magic of flying together as one.

Dialogo mamma-figlio / A mother & son conversation

Dialogo svoltosi qualche giorno fa, ultime battute, in realtà, di un fuoco di fila di domande esistenziali, racconti di sogni e delle loro relazioni con la realtà (tipo: qualche volta succede che quello che sogno poi si realizza; ma se sogno di volare significa che posso raggiungere qualcosa di bello?), riflessioni sulla solitudine…/ A conversation we had a few days ago, the home straight, actually, of a barrage of existential questions, accounts of dreams and their link to reality (such as: it sometimes happens that what I dream happens in real life. If I dream of flying, does it mean I can achieve something?), thoughts on loneliness…

Figlio (dodicenne) / Son (twelve years old): mamma, qual è la cosa vuoi di più di più nella vita, quello che ti piacerebbe tantissimo ottenere? / mum, what is that you want most in life, that you really really want to get?

Io (mamma) (dopo un momento spiazzamento) / Me (mother) (taken aback for a moment, then): essere felice e rendere felici altre persone / be happy and make some other people happy

Figlio / son : io vorrei più di tutto una vita normale / me, I want a normal, life, most of all

Io /me: cosa è normale per te? / What is “normal” for you?

Figlio / son: non so, è che mi sento diverso a volte / I don’t really know, it’s that I feel different (from others) sometimes…

Io (un po’ a corto di parole) / me (a bit at a loss for words): cosa significa “diverso” per te? / what is “different” for you?

Figlio / son:  non lo so di preciso…. però possiamo fare una pausa adesso? / I don’t exactly know… but can we take a break now?

Io / me: Sì, certo, possiamo fare una pausa (retro-pensiero: meno male!) / Yeah, sure we can (while I was thinking to myself: thank goodness!)

Ma… continua… (ne sono certa)

But… to be continued… (I’m pretty sure of it)



I pensieri si sono fatti densi in questi giorni, quasi solidi, occupano un loro spazio, benché non del tutto definito; i movimenti sono un po’ appesantiti, saranno gli strascichi dell’influenza, chissà; sembra una fatica per la mente ancora più che per il corpo, dover ricordare di mettere un piede avanti all’altro. Ci sono altre memorie da tener vive. Cerco la tua leggerezza, quella forza mite che ha reso straordinaria la tua presenza. Oggi sono sei mesi giusti che sei andato via, ammesso che andato via sia il termine più adatto, visto quanto ti ho ancora dentro, che comunque è una fortuna, anche se una fortuna che costa cara, ma dà anche molto in cambio, per così dire. Ci sei nella volontà e nella forza di dar vita al mio sogno. E parrebbe che non si abbia il diritto di piangere, solo che, come diresti tu, ho gli occhi che perdono.

Thoughts have been getting thick these days, almost solid, they are taking a space of their own, if not entirely defined; movements are a bit heavier, might be the aftermaths of flu, who knows; it seems demanding for the mind even more than for the body, having to remember to put one foot in front of the other. There are other memories to be kept alive. I’m looking for your lightness, the gentle strength that made your presence extraordinary. Today It’s exactly six months since you went away, if went away is the right expression, seeing how much I still have you inside me, which is my luck anyway, although it’s luck that costs dearly, but then it gives a lot in exchange, so to speak. You’re in the will and strength I have to give life to my dream. And apparently, one would not have the right to cry, it’s just that, as you would say, my eyes are leaking.