My father

[reviews_and_ramblings]

Today Kay Derwydd has made me think to my father. I often think to him. I do not believe in God, but I have an angel by my side, my father. His name was Eros (like the God of Love). He was born the 15 april 1939 in Addis Abeba, Ethiopia, from Italian parents immigrates in Africa. When Italy lost the war with England, the Italians in Ethiopa had to choose: remain or return in Italy. My grandmother chose to return in Italy, her husband said that he would arrive later. He never arrived. At nine years old, after the primary school, my father began to work like metal worker. At fifteen years he remained orphan by mother. He continued to work and living alone with his younger brother. At 31 years old he met my mother and they married in one year and in two years they had my brother and then me. His family was his only love, with to the River Po. The River Po flows into the Adriatic Sea creating a great delta. It is a beautiful and evocative zone. My father loved those places and hoped, after the retirement, to living here with my mother. When a year lacked to his retirement, to my father it was diagnosed the cancer: 3 months of life. My father has continued to fight and to renovate the house on the delta of Po where he wanted to go to living with my mother. And to watch us grow. After three years he was still alive and he fought, but he suffered very much: he did not want to abandon us. Then a morning he exited in boat at 4 a.m.. After few hours my mother went out to search him and saw the boat in the middle of the river. She cried from the river bend but he not returned back. At 10 p.m. he returned at home: my mother asked him what he had made for all those hours and he answered "I have said goodbye to my Po". That one was the last time that he exited in boat. The 18 March 1994 he died and I have thought: he has not realized nobody of his dreams, he has not gone to living with my mother in the house that he wanted, he has not seen us graduated, nothing of nothing... I have continued living as he had said to me, making the things that I wanted to make. Four years after I graduated. We do not choose the date of the bachelor, it depend on how many persons there are in the semester. When I saw the date of my bachelor I cried: the 18 March 1999. Exact five years after the dead of my father. Exactly at the same hour in which he died. I have taken it like a sign. My father was with me, to see the realization at least of one of his dreams. From that moment I always think that he is with me, by my side, and I try living as he has taught to me.

Comments

[willa-writes.livejournal.com]

My sympathies on the loss of your father. But what a beautiful thought, to have him always by your side. Thank you for sharing your story.

[elisa-rolle.livejournal.com]

Thanks Willa. I love very much my father and really think he is always with. I feel him. elisa

[cbpotts.livejournal.com]

This was incredibly beautiful. Thank you for sharing it with us.

[(Anonymous)]

thanks C.B. After 12 years the loss of my father is still a great pain, but thinking he is with help me to go on. elisa

[crossthebar.livejournal.com]

This is heartbreaking, but also one feels encouraged by the strength of the human spirit. Thank you for sharing, Elisa.

[elisa-rolle.livejournal.com]

My father had a great hearth and a beautiful spirit. He was a quite man but very strong. ciao, elisa

[samcdermott65.livejournal.com]

Beautiful. Thanx for sharing. :) - shari

[elisa-rolle.livejournal.com]

I'm always happy to speak of my father, and I also cry, but it is a good crying. My father wasn't an important man, the history will don't remember him, but I yes, and with me the people after me, thanks to my words I hope. ciao, elisa

[twisting-path.livejournal.com]

Elisa, that is a beautiful tribute to your dad. My husband died when my kids were 12 and 15--my daughter will be graduating soon, going off to college, on to medical school--my son has become an amazing musician (clarinet!), and though my son doesn't talk about his dad much (it will be 2 years Sunday) my daughter does. They both think of him often though, always keeping in mine his lessons (of which he had plenty--and they take to heart still). He left them a beautiful legacy, as did your father.

I know he would be proud of you, and how beautifully you touch others, and amazingly, others across the world. Because you do.

C

[elisa-rolle.livejournal.com]

thanks Carolyn. When I speak of my father I feel him nearer. ciao, elisa

[maxfromathens.livejournal.com]

Dear Elisa

It pains me that your father didn't want to leave you. I'm really sorry for him.
But-. I'm Catholic yet and believe in God, although I don't believe much about Heaven. I always believe: since our soul is energy, as soon as it leave from our body it returns to the air, is mixed with another elements which constitute substances. Needless to say it's based upon theory of relativity. Don't think difficult. It's very simple. So your father is still everywhere around you, he can run toward you at the speed of 300,000km/sec., speed of light, wherever he is. And you say you feel him, don't you?
It may sounds foolish to you, but I believe it. Wherever he is now, he must be proud of you.

I hardly cry. But when I lost my best friend(I had two until then. Both of them are straight), I couldn't stop crying. People around me were afraid if I got depression. Of course not. Though I felt so lonely because I can never saw him again, he never gives me advice. I usually think too much, so he used to say "look the things simple". I loved it. He was sensible from his earlier years because he had hard childhood like your father. He was typical Mediterranean handsome.I dedicated a book I wrote years ago to him, but he died before it was published.He was 28.

Maximilian

[elisa-rolle.livejournal.com]

Ciao Maximilian. Also I hardly cry. I cry only when I think to my father. But I also say it's a good crying. It frees me. I can't explain well, but it so.

Elisa