A Child Again
I would want to be a child again. To imagine the world I live in as a safe place. To trust the people around, to find happiness in the smiles of parents who are no more. Anytime, without exception. To know that any problem sorts itself out. To wait by the fence, playing, for my mother to come back from work, on an autumn afternoon. To play with friends, in the school courtyard, and to come back home when it gets dark. Then, to drink milk from the bottle and to fall asleep, with my parents" voice somewhere, in the background, in the other room. When we were children, the world is magical and the fabulous rests in an invisible move of the hand, when we imagined reality with fairy tales characters as concrete as ever possible. With our parents" love. With the safety of being loved and that of meaning something really special for your family.
But I am no more. Neither me, nor my friends, colleagues, or those I am in contact with. And we infect from each other, with coldness, indifference, hostility. We take things much too seriously, so seriously that we forget to enjoy we are healthy, we are well and that some of us have children of our own, waiting long, endless hours when we do arrive in the evening at home, or even days on end, when we are away. And everything happens quickly, in a whirlpool, and we can hardly stop, to notice those we live with in a present transforming much too quickly into past. We talk in a hurry, we hardly look at each others, we are absent even when, phisically, we are present. We always think of something else, we have priorities we forget about a week after delivering them, many times with sacrifice and pain for those who really depend on us and for whom we really matter: wives, husbands, children, family, close friends.
Why do we remember suddenly the close ones, when we have the scary spectrum of death, after ignoring them so far? Is it because suddenly the essential things are thos we take for granted, around us?
Priorities and values are bizarre things. And much too seldom in the right order.