THE WONDERING WANDERING WRITER CELEBRATES 25TH APRIL WITH HER DAUGHTER READING A RISING WRITER

Grandpa always sang a Sergio Endrigo song. She had sky blue eyes and a movie diva mustache.

He was won and winner, he was free and captive.

He and Grandma were a team, they stole each other's hearts and would cherish them until they were reunited, once the war was over.

Grandma waited for him for nearly eight years, ejecting the recurring thought of never hugging him again, and she couldn't believe her eyes the day grandpa came back.

He had crossed the equator to go to South Africa to become a slave, he had felt the fog of England in his bones, he had treated in unknown language with Arabic, German, English.

He had been gone for so long.

Time during which they both kept holding on.

Alone, apart but always together.

“I had to go back because no one was like her” always repeated grandfather with his disarming romanticism.

And when I asked "How did you wait so many years without being able to talk to each other, without being able to touch each other? "

Grandma used to say “You don’t belong only when you can look in the eye. "

Written by Lavinia Iannaccone, translated by Alessia Bruni.