At the moment I am doing some follow-up examinations to be admitted to the Sleep Medicine Center of Bologna.
During an examination, which was supposed to be only “routine”, I discovered that I had problems with one eye … and the news, which wasn’t particularly alarming in itself, overwhelmingly changed my vision of things and life.
Yes … because 4 years ago I lost sight in my right eye. Suddenly. From evening to morning.
And now it’s the left eye that’s having trouble …
Problems that, evolving, could take my sight away. Completely. Definitely.
Hence my belly reaction, indeed … from the heart.
I decided to make a wish list, which contains the important things to do and see, between naps, before waking up one day completely blind.
It’s not certain, not yet at least, but I prefer to prepare in time and enjoy what I consider really important.
Away the useless things, the anger, the irritability for things that I thought fundamental, away the disappointment.
I take away everything that doesn’t give me emotions, everything that steals smiles from me and that takes me away from the person I would like to be and feel I am.
Bad news can be a gift for me: to give priority to myself, to bring out who I am without worrying about what others are saying.
The ability to find the courage to feel free to be what I feel, to realize the life I want now, doing what I feel close to my being today.
My wish list doesn’t contain extraordinary or amazing things: it’s simply composed of points that came out urgently, with impetus and awareness.
I wrote them imagining myself old, with a cup of tea in my hand, remembering my life: I wrote simple things, but made with people I consider important and who have shown me that I am, with gestures, hugs and presence in the worst moments.
I wrote what I would like to share with them.
Experiences that we will always remember and that, inevitably, will unite us even more.
My wish list is what is giving me the strength to face the exams I have to do, waiting for the results and the fear of having to get used to living a different life again.
Every morning, when I wake up, I remain with my eyes closed for a few moments, with the fear of reopening them and discovering that I no longer see.
It may not happen, or at least not very soon … but the mere fact that this possibility exists has accelerated my reaction.
Paper, pen and heart.
The only things that, in the “brown” moments of life, manage to show me the way and soothe that dull pain that would otherwise find no way out.
The sentences I wrote on my wish list were born like this, simply listening to that voice that had been dormant for a while, and supporting the urgency that only fear can give.
And today, on the eve of an important exam, which I hope will say if I would see for a long time with my left eye, I look at my wish list and feel a deep sense of gratitude and serenity.
The one that comes from the awareness of being loved, despite everything and in different ways, by special people who have chosen to live these moments with me too.
Because sharing beautiful things is easy, but it’s in dark moments that true affection and true friendship are revealed, bringing with them that sense of warmth that’s very similar to a sincere embrace.
And today, on the eve of an important examination, I feel this enveloping embrace around me and I am deeply grateful for it.
I’m grateful, in every moment, this spiteful life that I share with special people, and to which I’m ready to show again that I too, for them, am a safe haven and a warm hug in the worst moments.
Because what I ask on my wish list is something bigger and deeper than the realization of my dreams: it’s the sharing of experiences with the people I love, it’s the gift of these emotions to you that are reading me, it’s the memory that remains in close hearts that will make us smile, it’s the possibility of being able to say that I’ve lived a full and happy life not only for me, but together with other wonderful people.
Because everything can be taken away, but nothing can ever take away the memories from the hearts of the people who have built and shared them.
And today, on the eve of an important exam, I know that whatever the outcome, I will continue to build and share important and true memories with the people who are part of my life and who have chosen to be there.
This is enough to make me feel comfortable and think about the next adventure that we will live together.
The wish list is made: now, together, we are transforming it into the list of memories.
And I am lucky.