TR # 3 - New Jersey (finding Jon)

My adventure in New Jersey begins under a dreadful hot weather, hopping on and off three different trains and waiting endlessly for a cab to deign to come to the station -why in god's name am I doing this?! Oh yeah, it's because of Jon Bon Jovi. Finally the cab arrives, so I can chat a little: what are you doing here? All the way from Italy FOR A CONCERT?! And what's your job? Who do you teach Italian to, in Italy? Don't they speak it already? Your English is perfect, by the way! Don't forget to come and see me too, one of these days I'll be playing in the stadiums too! Yeaaahh, sure... whatever. Finally I get to my apartment hotel, in a suite with stadium view and the highway all around, which means I can't leave this place other than in a cab. Perfect. Therefore I shut myself in the room, try to hand-wash my t-shirts -and successfully manage to!- and I make a sandwich. The sandwiches are already cut, awesome. Then I cook a pasta for dinner, and I realize that here they don't use normal burners, but hotplates which turn fire-red when hot... it took a while, before I realized I wasn't supposed to wait for a flame.

My first night goes by in a dreadful cold, thanks to the crazy thermostat. The day before the concert is dedicated to visit Perth Amboy, Jon's hometown, where I take for granted I will meet him, since he will be certainly there to rest. And indeed... my breakfast at the station is made of a traditional local Donut and an also traditional local watery coffee, after which I buy a newspaper to read on the train. Perth Amboy is very nice, it looks just like Wisteria Lane: cute houses with their gardens, the wooden stairs, the porch and the American flag in the patio garden; the beach on the... well, the canal, smell of saltiness in the air. My iPod plays Bon Jovi's songs, which in some way gain a whole new meaning, in this context. After walking along the canal, I resign myself to not meeting Jon while he's walking his dog and I take a seat at local restaurant to eat something. Which means, for just $10: icy cold water, blue cheese salad, crab cakes with lobster sauce, baked potatoes, dessert that I don't have, choosing an espresso instead... full of cinnamon, what the hell. Right when I was enjoying the cakes, the unforeseeable happened: a black sedan approaches from the road next to the restaurant, signals and turns... Jon is driving, with his headphones on, beautiful as ever. In the end, I was right. I can hardly eat anymore, of course, so the waiter asks me if he has to pack what's left for me to bring home... oh no, God forbid! I go back to the station, take the chance to go down to the beach and wash my feet in the water -icy cold, it's always an ocean after all- and I walk past through the worst neighborhoods. I'm ready for the concert.

The first thing to hit you is the absence of any fee meter on the cabs, because the fee is negotiable. Or rather, it's fixed. Whether you go to the station or across the street (the highway in my case) in just about 5 minutes, you still pay the same. It's boiling hot, what was I thinking when I bought a long-sleeves Bon Jovi shirt??! The stadium is huge even from the outside, and for those who have followed this band for a while, it's a dream come true: the old Giants Stadium, next to it and already half demolished, is a memorabilia in BJ's history. I arrive while they're still rehearsing, therefore I hear some hints of the songs they're going to play. Finally they open the gates, I take my seat and stare at the 3 rings of this "home of the Giants and the Jets!" which will host the Super Bowl too. I can count about 100 thousands seats, and some of them are way TOO high. As they usually do here, the seats on the field are numbered as well, which is good to prevent crowding and illnesses, and also to give to the people the opportunity to sit down. The seats are provided with drink-holders, and they're also very slippery. Those sitting next to me are an alcoholics' family with bottles of wine everywhere, and on the other side two typical extra fat American ladies. Unlike what I was told, the Americans are all but cold at concerts, on the contrary. After the opening act OneRepublic (the ones playing "Apologize"), the concert begins, with a jingle "this is our house" followed by two of my favorite songs, "Who says you can't go home" e "We weren't born to follow". The concert lasts three and a half hours, and when Jon thanks us for our loyalty, because he wouldn't be there if it wasn't for us, I think that I should thank him instead, because I wouldn't be here if I hadn't had those tickets for months. Now I know that a new phase of my life is beginning, without regrets and no more "I wish I was there", because I'm here now and I want to live every second to the best. For all the BJ lovers, here is the setlist: Who Says You Can't Go Home, We Weren't Born To Follow, You Give Love a Bad Name, In These Arms, Born To Be My Baby, Just Older, We Got It Goin' On, Raise Your Hands, When We Were Beautiful, Superman Tonight, Captain Crash and the Beauty Queen from Mars, Bad Medicine, It's My Life, Love's The Only Rule, Lay Your Hands On Me (Richie Vox), Livin' in Sin / Chapel of Love, I'll Be There For You, Something For The Pain, Diamond Ring, Sleep When I'm Dead/Jumpin' Jack Flash, I'd Die For You, Work for the Working Man, Someday I'll Be Saturday Night, Keep The Faith, Dry County, Wanted Dead or Alive, Livin' on a Prayer.

Once outside the stadium, I try to call for a cab but it's too late to get one. So I resign myself to sit on the crash barrier together with other unlucky guys, to wait. There's a guard in the middle of the street, trying to stop the approaching cars with a flashlight, to warn them to do a U-turn because there's a traffic jam and it would take more than one hour to go through, but nobody gives a shit about him: "I hate my fuckin' job!" Finally a cab arrives, after almost an hour, and I share it with father and son from Indianapolis. It's time to go to sleep, and to begin a new phase of my journey.

TR # 2 - First impressions

My notebook's first page says “my dream is....”: not enough dots, I leave it blank. I leave my home persuading Ma' that, altough the suitcase is half empty, Klappar the hyppo wouldn't fit in it. At the airport, after saying goodbye to Pa' and Gogo, I head for the check-in desk with a blasé attitude. After the first passport check, I find out that the beauty case counts as suitcase, so please pay the extra fee thaaaanxx. There's the huge novelty in Venice, the body scanner, ooohh yes. Nice. Shut down. Unused. Nicely spent. The plane is on time, we're served lunch -cheese maccaroni, not so bad as I tought- and I realize how much people overstates. When they say there's a lot of room for your legs, or no room at all -the room is always the same-, that you're given lots of stuff -a pillow and a dressing gown, which I assumed to be a cover-, that you must walk or your blood will not flow and you run the risk of a paralysis -I stood up only once and never suffered any consequences. I enjoy two movies, the Christmas time kind, and observe that a trans-continental flight is no more silent than the others, on the contrary. When the pilot says that we're going to land one hour earlier, the old man sitting next to me can hardly contain himself and starts telling me about his 15 days in Italy. After descending and finding the exit among a thousand labyrinths, I line up on the "visitors" line, and I'm told I must fill in a green form. Exactly the same as the ESTA form, which I already filled in, asking me once more if I'm a relative to Bin Laden. NO, WHAT THE FUCK. After which I line up for the security checks, which make you feel SO welcome in this country. There's a sign describing the procedure: right hand's fingerprints, then left hand's, digital picture, and in the end it says “welcome to the USA”... woah, what if I wasn't welcome?! The hour of advance is already wasted, while I'm explaining to the cop that I'm a turist... "and you're staying in Bensalem??! To visit what?!" I'm staying at a friend's, HOLY GOD!!! I rescue my suitcases, hurled off the conveyor belt, and go outside. Until I'm on the street I can't believe I don't have any more checks to go through.

After a quick call home, I drag myself to the first available cab, giving the driver Mel's address. The energetic driver, while busy setting the GPS, ends up on the sidewalk, but the situation is under control. Then I meet the very first local tradition: the air conditioning at full blast. My neck cervicals are grateful. Along the way I see the skyscrapers, typical of Philadelphia's skyline, and the bridge: these are the first images I record. In the end, the nice driver can't find the right street "I cant see numbers, I cant see!" so I decide to call Mel to give me a ride. The weather today is what we would call "suffocating" in Venice, so hot and humid that you would rather stay at the Equator. After leaving my suitcases at Mel's cats' mercy, we drive -of course- to the local supermarket. The car are huge here, on the other hand streets are immense too. At the supermarket I meet my friend Air Conditioning of course, and in the fruit and vegetables department a storm breaks out: you can hear the thunder, then a light rain waters the produce -choreographies made in USA. Every product -fruit, vegetables, bread, delis- lasts up to a month, open in the fridge. Gulp. And in facts you don't buy hundred grams of delis, but a pound... half a kilo, who cares, since they last?! Luckily it's Mel who prepares dinner, meat pizza, and then it's time to go to sleep... or to play with Ninì the female cat, in my case, thanks to the jet-lag.

The next day I'm numb to say the least, because of the sleepless night, therefore I spend my time on the Internet. When my Macbook's battery runs down, I realize to my chagrin that the expensive transformer I was sold in Italy and said to be absolutely necessary, is useless, and all I need is plain adapters. Hmmmmmmm. In the afternoon we go for a stroll at the Mall, the shopping centre, with Mel and the faithful Air Conditioning. At the Mall you can find all kind of brands on sale, not necessarily in "sales weeks" as in Italy. Thus the Guess store sells bags at 25 dollars, while the Levi's store hauls jeans at 30. On the other hand, unlikely sweaters by D&G and Missoni reach $500-$600, but they used to cost $2,000-$3,000! While you walk through the mall's hallways, you can find any kind of stuff: candies machines, masseurs, estheticians who depilate your eyebrows USING SEWING THREAD, make-up stands where you can ask for a free trial to see how the make-up looks on you. Many dummies here have a 42 bra size... local beauty model; the Nike store sells a purse that you can fasten to your sneakers; the Lindt store is shutting down, therefore they're selling 4 pounds of Lindor at $7... that's too much even for me, the local super sizes are giving a hard time even to my undeniable voracity. Every shop assistant is smiling, and even if I know they're posing, I love to hear their greeting "Hi, how're you doing?", 'cause it sounds as if they gave a damn. After dropping by Victoria's Secret -which actually exists, I couldn't believe my eyes!- we head back home, and finally tonight I manage to sleep!

The third day couldn't start any better, with the skype-call home, and it goes on even better, with the trip to Philadelphia. It's boiling hot, and the temperature range between outside and inside must be around 20 degrees. An inspector validates the tickets, then puts them on your seat, and takes them when you're supposed to get off. The first stop we make in Philly is the Liberty Bell, which is the symbol of the American Independence. It has a whole museum of its own, where they stored souvenirs dating back to 1960... memorabilia indeed!!! The rangers won't allow us to sit on the very valuable outside little wall -it could date back to 1980, show some respect!- and finally we're admitted to the guided tour to the Congress Hall, where others valuable memorabilia are stored... 1700's stuff... the guide gets excited while talking about the best Constitution ever written and represented in those very halls... yeah, we must be in the middle of the world. After a tasty Mexican lunch, we take a stroll in the skyscrapers' area, which couldn't exist until a short time ago, because no building could be higher than Penn's statue's hat -Penn is the founding father of Pennsylvania. It's still boiling hot, but at least we have some shade from the skyscrapers. We seek shelter at our friend Air's, in one of the most recent skyscrapers, and after drinking a smoothie we head for the station, which is conveniently connected to the skyscraper, underground. Our train is canceled, therefore we squeeze ourselves into the next one and then we go shopping: tomorrow it's time for me to leave, New Jersey is waiting for me.

Travel Report #1 - The eve (what I'm leaving)

There are a few hours left until the plane will take me overseas, a few minutes left until the episode of my favorite TV series, which I'll watch tonight for the last time. This was a goodbyes and last times' period, sometimes aware and more often unaware that they were the last. Clearly, just as every time I'm about to turn my mental scrapbook's page, I weigh the things I'm leaving behind and the things I'm taking with me.

I'm leaving my hometown, and its memories. Good memories and bad memories, of a nearby town that's unique, and therefore so hard to accept: 'cause when you're a child, you think all kids in the world live next to a pile-dwellings town. Then you see other towns and you realize they look much more like the place where you live, across the bridge, on the mainland. So you cherish Venice with all its lacks and hate Mestre with all your heart. But today I can say I made peace. Peace with the streetcar, the mice, the stinking Marzenego, the crazy limited traffic zones and the smell of smog. But I also made peace with the smell of sunset, of wet grass and grilled chicken... with the dawns at S.Giuliano, the parks, the Riviere. I take some digital pictures with me, and many, many more mental pictures stored behind my eyelids: when I close my eyes, they start sliding.

I leave my home, where I laughed, cried, loved, studied, fought. But I always say goodbye to its walls, everytime I leave.

I leave my many stuffed animals. Swettie the white sitting bear, Klappar the hyppo, Quack the duck, Placidia the hen. When I was a child, I used to wish goodnight to all my "1792" stuffed animals (I never counted them, it was an approximation by defect). Now, as a grown-up-like, I always wished goodnight to two of them, Black-Snout-Clergygirl, the monk seal, and Grey-Snout-Rabbie, the hare. Because I bought them at Hamleys', and they were there on the bedside table to constantly remind me that away from all the things that didn't fit me, away from the job I couldn't stand, there were more challenges, more opportunities, more different worlds.

I leave the challenges I lost and the ones I won, the satisfactions and the disappointments, but I take with me what I learned from those. I leave some people who were worth it, and some whom I wasted my time with. I take with me the awareness of giving everything I could, and somebody will never realize how much they lost.

I leave the ones I love, but I take with me the smiles, the hugs, the love they'll give me no matter where we are, the strength I gain from the fact that I mean so much to them as they mean to me.

I take with me the will to tell, to live, to observe, to feel life running through my veins. And the fear too, 'cause as Gogo says "it's part of the game, it's fair to shit yourself."

I know I'll be a different person when I'll come back, I hope I'll be much better, and I hope to pack -on the way back- at least half more mental baggage than what I'm packing now.

The suitcase is ready, it's time to shut the laptop down. And to turn the Italian TV on... at least one thing I won't miss.

Scent of coffee grounds

Bam bam bam. A light, then nothing. Quick pics flow like a film, quick flashes now slowing down. Here we are, me and Roby. I've grazed my knee, because he was holding me and he let me slip out of his arms. I'm afraid of blood, but I don't want to cry because I don't want to give him this satisfaction. «It hurts?» «YES!!» «Sorry, didn't mean to…» «You're a jerk, as usual. I won't play with you ever again.» And then I cuddle up, pretending to hurt more than I actually do. He stands up and goes to the kitchen, he's gone for a while. When he comes back, he's got two coffee cups, even if mama doesn't want us to drink it. «I put four sugars in yours, shall we make peace?» I don't answer, take my cup and mix the sugar. He's fooling around, gargles and make me laugh. «Still mad?» «Little less now.» «So you can smell the scent?» «What scent?» «That scent you smell after you drank a cup of coffee when you're happy. Can you smell it?» «You're right, I can smell something. I think it's the scent of coffee grounds.» «Oh, I thought it was the cup. But you're the one to know such stuff, so I trust you. It's the scent of coffee grounds.» Pics flowing again, running fast. Here they slow down again. Me and Roby again, but older. I'm crying after I just broke up. «Hussshhhhhh c'mon, stop it huuuushhhhhhh!!» He could never stand my tears, he's afraid of seeing me cry. «It's not worth it, c'mon! He was such an asshole!! He can't force you to do something you don't want to! If you're meant to be, you will meet him again, if not you'll find a thousand other guys, much better than him!! Huuusssshhhh stop it, c'mon stand up and follow me.» He draws me out to the balcony where we hang our laundry out to dry. We can see all the roofs from there, time's close to sunset. «Do you think it's worth to cry?? Look at this sight, look at the colors of the clouds! This is worth crying for, but with happiness!!» I stopped crying, but I don't give a damn about the clouds. «Thanks.» I smile. «Fine, that's a start. If you stop fuckin' sulk, then, you can also find a new Brad Pitt.» I push him in play and laugh, he puts his hand on my shoulder and we go back inside.

Bam bam bam. I open my eyes, where am I? Blue light Oh My God I can't breathe aaahhhh aaahhhh calm down calm down it's just an oxygen mask. I take a deep breath, where am I? IV everywhere, am I at the hospital? I'm passing out, I close my eyes. Pics flowing again, as if I'm watching a movie. Me and Roby again, we're children again, we're puffing up our cheeks. We're Bubboo and Bubbee, we must keep talking like this until one of us laughs. He's doing everything he can to make me laugh, and finally he manages to. He's happy, but not because he won, just because I'm laughing. Pics flowing again, memories shoal and mix together. Here I am, at Roby's door. Ding-dong. «Heeeyyy dumby, how come you're here??» «Hi.. well… I dropped by to give you the invitation, you know... I'm marrying Manuel.» «Oh. Oh, OK. But, are you sure? Come on in, let's talk about it.» «Oh no, he's waiting in the car, I'm on a rush... sorry.» He looks down at the invitation. «Sorry for what? The thing is, I don't know if you would still be sorry, if you were happy. And if you would miss that sparkle in your eyes. But if you say you're happy, then I believe you, you know I trust you.» «And I trust you.» I've got a lump in my throat, I don't want him to frown at me. «Don't turn away from me.» «Heeeyyyy are you nuts?? How could Bubboo turn away from Bubbee??» And he puffs up his cheeks, like when we were children. I laugh, and he's relieved to see me laugh as I used to. «But if you have any problems, you know I'm here, right?» I hold him tight, because I'm afraid we will end up growing away anyway.

White lights, distant voices. «Doctor, the girl is waking up.» One light in one eye, then in the other one. «Giovanna, can you hear me?» My mouth is furred, I can't answer. «Sedate her, she's still weak». It's dark again, and the pics are flowing again. Me and Roby walking on the beach after it rained. He lifts some wet sand with his umbrella and I get dirty. I'm about to get mad at him when he throws me to the ground with a wrestler's move, we laugh and fight. Back at the bungalow, mama gets really mad. «C'mon mama, it's my fault 'cause I made her kinda tumbling down!!» I laugh again. Pics flowing, once again. We're in his car, I'm crying while Roby's driving. «I don't wanna start with "I warned you", so let me just say he's the biggest jackass on Earth. And stop looking at that fucking mobile or I'll throw it away!! He's not gonna call you, and if he does, he will talk to ME! When will you begin to understand how much you deserve thanks to the wonderful person you are and all you give to other people??» «Sure, what I give besides ballbusting? Evidently, I wasn't enough for him.» «YEAH, SURE!! And if that was true, he's justified in finding another woman? Are you kidding??! If I weren't driving I would wrestle with you like we used to, just to see if I can re-activate some cells in that brain of yours!! And do you really want to know what you give to other people? Look at what I found in my stuff, the other day, read something that's worth crying for, c'mon!» He takes a piece of paper out of his pocket, it's old and yellow. At the top, there's a date written by a child. «Hey, what the fuck is he doing?? WWWOOOHHHAAA!!»

Bam bam bam. I wake up, I'm still numb but my head is clear. A nurse is changing the IV. «Good morning Giovanna, how do you feel?» «Confused… weak» «You had a bad accident, it's normal.» «Roby… Roberto, my brother, where is he?? How is he?» «You must thank him, if he hadn't had that quick reaction... he sheered on his side, to avoid you being hurt. He saved your life. He's in a different ward.» «Can I see him? I want to see him.» «Maybe tomorrow, right now he's still too weak.» She goes away. I start looking around, bringing the room into focus. I see my mobile on the bedside table, and that piece of paper. I must have had it in my hands. I take it and read the first lines:

“March 10th 1989. That is the day I turn eight.

Today I'm writing the eight nine or maybe ten stuff I more like, so when I read this in four or maybe five years I can see what I like still and what not. I begin from the less good to the best good.

10.Playing Pang on the Amiga, cos I always win at Pang and sometimes at golden axe too.

09.The recess at school, so I can run and play and I can not study for a while.

08.When we sit around the table at Christmas and New Years Eve all together and we laugh a lot and we eat what Auntie makes and then we count sixty fiftyfive and so on, cos now I can cos I'm older but some time ago I couldn't cos I was too young and I slept a lot earlier.

07.The scent of burned paper and wood when papa cooks barbecue and we collect pine needles. Then papa always gets sick and that's not good, but before it is.

06.The scent of grass when it rains or maybe not, the scent of everything when it's not raining anymore and everybody go around in tracksuit with the umbrella and then you can see the rain bowl too.

05.When we go to the beach together, cos we sing in the car and we laugh all the time but then my sister gets sick so we must be quiet but I still like it.

04.When my mom hugs me tight and I don't know that she wants to hug me, so I like it anyway no I like it even more.”

A smile fills my mouth, tears fill my eyes, I close the paper and decide to go on reading it later, with Roby. He's so right, there are many things worth crying for. Finally they let me see him. Doctors have dark, crusty faces, I don't like them. They stop me in the hallway.

«Hi.»

«Hi.»

«Miss D., maybe you should wait a little while. It's not a good show.»

«I don't care, I wanna see Roby. How is he?»

«Oh… he's not well, Miss D.»

«What do you mean? How long will he have to stay here?»

«Well… he suffered some traumas and brain damages which led to an oedema… he's in coma, Miss D.»

«Coma? But he will pull through. He must pull through.»

«We don't have big hopes, honestly. I'm sorry but... well, if he doesn't react in the next six hours, we will have to declare his brain death. I'm really sorry Miss D., honestly.» Silence.

«Mrs.»

«Sorry?»

«You keep calling me "Miss" even though I'm married. Mrs.»

«Oh… sorry. Seriously, you'd better choose another moment to see your brother.»

«No. If you're telling the truth, this could be my last chance to see him.»

«It's up to you then, ma'm. Let me take you to the room.»

The room is dark, Roby's got IV everywhere. His head is all wrapped, his legs too. Oh My God brother, what happened? I get closer and hold his hand. «Hi, it's me.» Beep beep beep. «C'mon, stop pretending, you won. Wake up.» Beep beep beep. I can feel a lead weight on my stomach. It's called helplessness. I'm looking at the only man –or maybe the only person- who never deceived me, and gave me all he had without asking anything back. And I'm helpless. And I can't even tell him, how special he is. How long I've been looking for someone like him, someone who could see in me all the good things he saw. I can't stop staring at that bandage around his head... how much did it hurt??! Why?? To save me, once more. To save my life and save me from my life, at the same time. To make me realize how many walls I built along the years. Walls around myself, to prevent me from getting at my heart and hurt myself. Walls against other people, to prevent them from getting at my heart and destroy me. Walls against the whole world, afraid of I don't know what, but it's something that could kill me if it'd only got closer. Maybe it's fear of happiness. Roby never built any walls. Every time he was slapped, he smiled back. And every time he was let down, he chose to trust again. Like he did with me. I let him down all my life. And yet he made me feel the most important person in the world. What's so special in me, I don't know. I can't even wake you up. I keep crying. Oh yeah, the list. I take the paper, start reading it and remembering with him. Nothing. Beep beep beep. There's only half an hour left, I've been here for five hours and a half. I go on reading, there are three items left.

“03.The sun set when there are a lot of clouds in the sky, and they color orange and pink and then birds fly into them and there's the light wind that ruffles my hair.

02.The scent of coffee grounds, cos then you are very happy if you smell it, and you love very very much that who's with you. When my sister is there I always smell it. Only if I drink coffee, that is.”

Oh, yeah. It's been a long time since I thought about that. It's been a long time since I last smelled it. I take a glimpse to the last line, and everything collapses. The world as I considered it until now, the idea of being forced to fight for something different from what I already have. I look around and discover a new world, that is the same world but now I'm able to see it. And I understand that my life is stronger than my efforts to ruin it. And I finally understand that there are many things worth crying for, but many more things worth laughing for. Once again, Roby gave me joy, gave me my life back.

“01.My sister's smile, cos it colors everything and it seems that there's a light so strong that you must close your eyes, even if it's raining outside. And she always smiles even if I say silly silly stuff, but she smiles cos she's nice. Here they are. This are the stuff I more like. One day I say them to my sister, so she can say hers. Not today cos she's mad, and I want to make her laugh. So then she's happy.”

Beep beep beep. I can't hold back the tears anymore. I stop. I read the list all over again. Beep beep beep. A doctor walks in. «Ma'am… you should walk out the room.»

«No.»

«Please, ma'am, we must unplug the machines.»

«Unplug them, but I'm staying here. And bring me a coffee, with lots of sugar.»

«But ma'am…» He's persuaded by my glance. When the nurse comes in bringing my coffee, I slowly mix it. I look at Roby, and I can't see anything else. I drink my coffee as we used to. Beep beep beep. Beep beep. Then nothing. His face softens, he looks as if he's ready to stick out his tongue and make me laugh. Thus I laugh, laugh, laugh and everybody thinks I'm crazy but I can't see them nor hear them. Out of the windows there's one of our sunsets, full of clouds in the sky. And I bet you can smell wet grass, rain and burnt wood in the air. But I can smell only one thing, and put my lips on Roby's 'cause I'm sure he can smell it too. It's that scent, again. The scent of coffee grounds.

Three nickels

“21. 11. 1992

Dear Santa,
Ill write you early enogh so you can find the time to find the stuff I need.
This year I don't want any presents for me even tough I've been a good girl, but I just need a kimono and a radio, 'cause mama needs them. So I can help her pull out the three nickels shes got on her forehead and we can plant them and grow the nickels tree. Thanx a lot, say hi to the reindeer.
Giorgia Badin.”

“18.02.1993
Dear Santa,
I just wanted say thanx for the kimono and the radio, even tough mama didn't need them, after all. Oh, and while you're at it, say thanx to the Wise Men for the candies, mama liked those!
Giorgia Badin.”
“01.02.2013
From: Giorgia gbadgirl@libero.it
To: Ale; Anna; Babi; Cher; Dani; Ele; Eleuni; Elyb; Elytit; Mary; Nick; Ozzy; Peppe; Rosa; Vero
Obj: B-Daaayyyy!!

Hey guys!
I'm depressed right know, can you believe I'm almost 30??! Still I'm safe for another year :-D! And not the oldest of the gang, uh?! Just kidddin! C'mon Vero, no offense meant!! How about celebrating (or drown our sorrows)?? See ya on the 18th of course, at my daddy's place, OK? If my boss won't change his mind on the V-E-R-Y S-H-O-R-T meeting we're having (he's such a cock), I'd say we meet 9.15 so that MAYBE you, Ely, will make it on time??! Let me know who's coming so I can book the place! Bring whoever you want! See yaaaaaa! Hugs,
Giò

P.S.- This year NO PRESENTS, no kidding!! But you can bring the cake ;-)!”
“18.02.2013

Dear Giugi,
the date on this letter is not -of course- the date it was written, but the day you'll receive it. I didn't choose your 29th birthday by chance. When you're 29, you're often taking stock of your life, making tough choices, tough decisions. Or, as in my case, you suddenly see "game over" on your screen. I'm 29 right now while I'm writing, you're in your room and you're just eight. In my whole life I always did everything in a rush, as if I had known I wasn't allowed to waste my time. But I wouldn't retrace my steps, I don't have any regrets and just few remorses. I started writing because this morning, while touching my forehead, you asked me what those bumps were. Since I couldn't explain, I told you they were three nickels, remember? And that I would have had to go to Heaven, to pull those out and plant the nickels tree. Forgive me for lying to you, forgive me for not being there to see you grow up. See? I'm asking your forgiveness for things not under my control. This is something you should keep in mind: be always sorry and thankful, even for things that don't figure on you or people around you. There are so many things I wish I could teach you, even if I'm not the best person to do that. Take care of your dad, he looks strong but he's fragile inside. I wish I were by your side, when you'll have your first gratifications, and your first disappointments too. Don't beat yourself down, be strong. You're already strong.
You just came and showed me your letter for Santa. You must have heard me and your daddy talking about chemo and radio therapies... I'm so sorry honey, I didn't mean to steal your dreams.
Back to us, what were we talking about? Now that I don't have much time left, I reconsider everything under a different light. Sounds prosaic, but it's true; oh, by the way, the old "when you don't have much time left you do everything you always dreamed about" isn't true. It's bullshit. When you're diagnosed a cancer, you spend every second trying to recover, and you have hardly any energy left. Thus, live now, live every second without a second thought, don't linger on resentment or regret because you really have just one life. And nothing lasts forever. Now that you're young, everything seems to last forever, delights as much as deprivations. It's not like that. Everything -except death- changes more often than you could imagine. The way you'll miss me -that will change; the "endless" love for your first boyfriend -that will change; the disappointment for your first breakup -that will change; the job you hate -that will change; your lease on life -that will change. Don't ever let your life go without your guide, fight to change what's wrong. And don't ever stop fighting just because everybody else goes against you: I fought to get married and give birth to you when I was barely twenty, and now everybody agrees with me. Even your grandma.
Always follow your instinct, even in the worst moments, because I trust it to lead you in the right direction. Remember how the sun rises in the sky: it always wins, against any clouds, it will fight and rise every single day. Do the same, follow your light, rush headlong into every experience, breathing every moment of those. I'm already missing those breaths, those smells and those moments which get out of my hands... but I wish you will feel this nostalgia in a far future, in sixty years at least.
I wish I could write forever, but I don't think I can. Trust yourself, don't trust others too much, and most important don't trust those who promise the world to you. Your dad conquered me with actions, not words. Take care of him, make him proud. Now it's time for me to end this letter. I love you, I know you know it, and I'm not watching you from up above, so do all the crap you want to. If one's value is measured on the mark she leaves on others, when I look at you I'm proud of myself because I'm worth much more than I could ever imagine. Have a nice life, happy birthday Giugi.
Mommy.

PS- In the envelope you'll find three nickels... who knows if they'll still exist, in your future, and maybe they're worth a lot!"

“15.03.2013
From: Giorgia gbadgirl@libero.it
To: Babi
Obj: Done!

Baby, it's done!
I booked the flight... and gave notice!! AAAAHHHH!!! I've never been this impulsive, am I fucking things up, whaddo u say?! I know it's crazy, relying on a letter and all that stuff, but... you know, it's my mother!! She's right, I should live my life! Do you remember when we bungee jumped, that time?! Here, I'm diving with the same recklessness... and we liked that so much! Yes, maybe it will hurt afterwards, but why don't we mention the thrill of the jump??! Oh by the way, I went to have the coins evaluated as you told me: yes, you were right, this coinage is a rare one, they're worth a fortune! But I don't care, I gave them to my daddy because I know he treasured them. Now I must go, I don't want THEM to find out I'm minding my own fucking business while at work, these last days ;-)! Call you tomorrow, hugs!
Giò
P.S.-Would you mind learning how to use that fucking Skype, so I can at least call you once I'm there??!"