Sliding doors: anni fa scelsi una vita invece di un altra. Remember the 9/11? Avrei potuto essere lì. Avrei. Remember the 9/11.
QUESTA STORIA PARTECIPA ALLA PALESTRA CREATIVA DEGLI #AEDIDIGITALI
Sometimes I do ask myself why, so early in the morning, do I have to be at the desk? C’mon don’t I deserve a relaxed life? Maybe, but that’s the life I chose, to work here in the marketing office of a big tourism company. So I am a manager, I am a successful woman, I am happy to work here. I am somebody now.
When I got here in the States to be with him, my loving husband to be, when I lost my flight back to Rome, I was a nobody, left alone by my family, no money and no friend. I do remember the lonelyness I felt. My first winter was so damned cold inside out. I fought to be here, to stay. I was a waitress, a babysitter, an italian teacher, a cooking teacher. I worked and worked and worked. Anything to be right, to show my parents my choice was the choice. He was studying in Phili, I was helping and supporting him, I wanted him to succeed so much, so badly.
“No way you are gonna be happy” were my father last words on the phone during the call we had. The last call. After a deep oceanic silence took his place. I remember me walking under the freezing rain in Wall Street listening to silent shouts from my father soul. We were telepathic, somehow he knew I was struggling to be alive. He felt my sorrow, my intimate need for his support but his denials overcame the ocean back to me, in my face.
Now I look out from the window on the 107th floor of the south Tower to make myself feel better. It’s just the tireness, the early wake up, my baby crying in the night time. My last son is 5 months old, he needs me… so he calls me when I am home. My husband is playing basketball in LA. He plays in NBA. Oh yeah, he did it, daddy, He did. Not Jordan but close, so close. We are happy, we live in Connecticut. We did it.
Ten years to be here today at my desk of an executive manager, an American coffee so strong in my mouth, feeling homesick. I wrote a letter yesterday to you daddy of love and affection. After nine years you came to meet my family, your niece and nephew last summer, you slept by us, played the grampa. We miss you “nono”. I miss you, so much because a wall has broken down in my soul, my rage flood out, now I am free to be loving again.
Can you come back soon nono? Mira asked you last night on the phone. You said you’ll be here for Xmas. I can’t wait to hold your hand again. No, nothing’s wrong or maybe yes, my husband does’t call me so often… some gossip is coming out on a flirt, a young woman they say. I am alone with Mira and Maurice. “Ha l’amante papo” ti ho detto ieri sera al telefono. Sei stato in silenzio a lungo, nodding. Hai chiesto tanto, troppo. Hai capito, mi hai sgamato, che non è la prima volta. Hai pianto papo, lentamente e dolcemente mentre non parlavi.
“Anni fa ho sbagliato, dovevo prendere quell’aereo e venirti a prendere lì a Wall Street mentre mi chiamavi. Il mio orgoglio e la mia forza eri tu, che volevi la tua vita. Ammiravo la tua determinazione, forse eri solo molto sola. Perdonami Arianna. Perdonami” Papo? Perdonami? Vienimi a prendere papà. Vieni… ho pensato.
“Ma vengo, ora, Arianna. Vengo. Prepara le valigie, poca roba. Ci pensiamo noi a te e ai bambini.” E il lavoro papo?
“Il lavoro lo troverai”
E io ti aspetto papo. Oggi mi dimetto. Oggi comunico al mio capo la decisione. The final decision. I will go out from the building so lightly.
But… The South Tower was the second tower to be struck, at 9:03 a.m., and the first tower to collapse, at 9:59 a.m.
On the 107th a woman was looking down from Top of the World Trade Center Observatories looking at a future never to be, she pulled her arms to the windows likely a hug to a gosthly time and she waited to meet her destiny and then slided.
“Sempre così” non cambi mai.” e “Ancora urlate? Niente tablet oggi”
“Sei nervosa oggi, Arianna. Ma hai dormito male?” mi chiede il Prof Ing pensieroso.
No, maybe. Who am I? Who I will be? A gosthly hand keeps mine, daddy’s shadow is fleeing through me. E’ che eri vivo in quella vita lì, se avessi perso quell’aereo per tornare da te molti anni fa. Eri vivo.
Questo post partecipa alla palestra creativa degli #aedidigitali,questa settimana il tema era il #trenoperso.