Please don’t come all together…

Finally it has arrived. It is here with me. Everytime I look at my image in the mirror, it smiles to me. When I go out, it follows me. When I go to sleep, it lies on the pillow.With me. When I meet it, confused feelings arise inside me. Melanchony. It reminds me days are passing even for me. And not only for all the others who were born in 1972. Joy. To have arrived to see it in the same time I have already married my first daughter. Not every 72 people could have this big honor. Hope. To be able to see all my dreams realized before all the friends of my new friend come to join me.

Welcome, my first grey hair:)

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Zanotti at our feet. Giuseppe in our hearts

Art is the power to mold materiality into your spiritual projects

Art is the ability to go on believing in your talents though world does not recognize you

Art is the opportunity to transform a simple piece of leather in a unique piece.

Passion can be expressed through a physical gesture

Passion can be showed with a song from the heart

Passion can be be found in the design of a simple shoe.

Shoes are part of our daily walks.

Shoes are part of our magic moments.

Shoes are part of our life.

When passion and art meet in a piece of leather,

When a very narrow signature appears on the edge of your shoes.

When you want only the best for your daughter’s wedding.

The only choice we had was to come to you. And ask you to dream for her shoes that she will never forget.

And this is what we got.

Thank you Giuseppe for making your passion and art being part of our special day.

trumpet says goodbye to the violins…

2000 pictures
6 hours video
2 painful feet
1 full of spots elegant dress
12.500.000 memories. some very confused. Others too clear.
3 months of house keeping to recover
a 40 years birthday
6 children still to marry
an infinite dose of love demonstration by all people who came, wrote, called, travelled, drove, to be there, and share spiritually and physically that magic moment of our lives…
This is what remains since lights were turned off on my first daughter’s wedding..

as says the song that since the age of 6 filled my face with tears..
.And sometimes
the party is over
The lights go out,

the trumpet says
goodbye to the violins.

To wake up tomorrow morning
with a new song in our hearts
to sing it with strength,
to sing it with pain.
To hear the flutes in the free breeze
and to start – from the beginning.

She is my mother…believe it or not…

There are people who use special treatments to look younger. who spend money on creams, on pastes, on masks, on make ups. Who retire for several weeks in far and secret  places in order to reappear suddenly with a smoother and teenager looking face. Who spend hours in front of the mirror waiting for a miracle performed by Heaven. There are other people wo don’t have time for special creams and treatments. Who run after their children since the age of 20 without sleeping for 19 years. Who wake up in the morning with the feeling of not having a chance to close the eyes for more than 10 minutes. Who run after their children for years and years tryuìing to concile job and family without letting noticing to one world the existence of the second one. Who go around to shop with their daughters before their wedding and suddenly realize that maybe all the efforts of starting young, when her friends were still enjoying and playing, her adult life, with a family of her own, were worthy. Because most of the sellers of the shops just stop and ask her daughter to come back with her mother and not with her sister. And the daughter, smiling, turns towards her mother and for the hundreth time says: I know you don’t notice it but actually she is not my friend nor my sister. she is my mother..Believe it or not…

A wish list

Here’s a short list of what I would still like to do with you.
I would like to breast feed you some more
I would like to teach you to walk again
I would like to repeat with you ‘mummy’ slowly as once
I would like to push you on the swing for the hundredth time without complaining
I would like to take you again to first grade hand in hand
I would like to reassure you before the vaccination
I would like to hug you after a bad dream
I would like to tell you that I love you though you have scattered all your toys
I would like to teach you my preferred song
I would like to dance with you while you are dressed in that fluffy and shiny pink dress
I would like to embrace you at the age of 10
I would like to eat with you those chocolates in which you invested all your money at the age of 12 and for which I shouted you for two days
I would like to lie down in the bed with you counting the florescent stars we attached on the ceiling
I would like to understand some more what you were thinking at the age of 14

I would like to kiss you goodnight at the age of 16 even though you were not hanging the phone

I would like to go around for shopping once again without looking at the watch

I would like to fill the air with all my love for you and let you smell only this smell for the past 19 years.

I would like…read it again and again, my sweet love and try not to forget any of these wish list points with your future, with G-d’s help, kids…

We found the veil…is this the end?

We found finally the veil. Maybe I didn’t want actually to find it. Maybe I just wanted to posticipate. Because this step represented the final piece of a puzzle which will bring you a little bit away from us, in another country, with another family name, with a new love.

Who knows, I guess that sometimes I am really jealous. Because I know that, in a few days, your first thoughts will be for something that goes beyond our family. To your new identity.

Forgive me if I was rude, if I said things I did not mean. It was my mother nature who was calling from inside, trying to send you a message of which I am a little bit ashame: I love you so much, I know it seems strange, I know that if you were already 30 I would love this moment to become real.

The truth is,that I would want you some more only for me.

That I feel those times during which I was holding your hands and driving your moves, making you choose between a Croc’s and a shoe, are so frighteninly gone.

That the only thing I can do now is just to sit down in the car, with the engine switched off and let all the tears come directly from my heart to the surface of my face.

And tell you: I will always love you.

Don’t cry…

Don’t cry little baby. With G-d’s help, in a less than 21 days, you’ ll be there. Smiling and dancing and starting a new life. Don’t cry little baby, though he is now in the plane. He will be there thinking of you and of your common future ahead. Don’t cry little baby, come to hug your mummy. I know it could seem sometimes childish and reserved only for your little brothers and sisters. But believe me, as tears have no age and every moment can happen to be the right one to shed some of them without being ashame, so are hugs. infinite and ready for any kid you have, at any age, at any stage. and now please only come here, to me.

and may G-d grant you to shed for the next 120 years only tears of joy for wonderful things…

A dream, a knapsack and a shouting baby

Who could imagine your taste for nice clothes, that made us spend so much during the last 19 years, would have been one day so apreciated by someone?

Who could imagine your love for good food, that sometimes forced you to make rush diets, would have once transformed you in the best cook ever?

Who could imagine your dream of being dressed in a fluffy gown, that made you draw so many dresses on your schoolbooks, would have become real one day?

Who could imagine your special brown eyes, that made you call ‘princess’ after 10 minutes you were in this world, would have become one day so laughing and so charming?

Who could imagine our freedom lover, who was dreaming to cross all the world with a knapsack on her back, would have one day loved to stay home waiting for a phone call?

Who could imagine a girl who loved to sleep and woke up for 19 years with an angry expression on her face, could one day wake up with a smile for the coming day?

Who could imagine that little girl cheating during the memory game, going under the glass table and looking at all the cards, would have one day become a woman as you are today?

Who could imagine we would have arrived to that day, during which we should  be preparing mentally to this, with G-d’s help, wonderful and happy life trip while still not able to believe our baby is already at this important step?

Who could imagine one day we will have to let our little shouting, always sleeping, smart, dreaming baby, become his beloved lady?

Will she keep that broken chair?

Please madam, on the next time don’t bring the children, says the dressmaker after her chair was half broken, her sofa tasted jumping feet for the first time and her mirror survived to the worst attack it had ever had in its life. No, I promise, I will not bring them anymore. I say to her while looking for the coat of the little one. ‘Mum, coat, coat’ he tells me. I look at him. He’s wearing his coat since one hour. He never removed it. Maybe he knew already this place wouldn’t be the most children-friendly in the world. It’s not because I don’t like children, madam, she goes on telling me while opening the door as a person who lets out from her house the worst creatures in the world.It’s simply that it is impossible to do something with these…always moving creatures around. One screams, the other yells, the third one jumps everywhere. Yes, you are totally right, I tell her and I give the hand to my three little devils. It is indeed really hard to do something with them around, I go on repeating while giving every child his/her opportunity to call the elevator and catching the little one while trying to go down by the stairs maybe knowing how he will be squeezed inside the elevator with all his brothers and sisters.. You are not offended, aren’t you? she tells me while looking at me with rigid eyes. If they could just sit down and stay calm, she adds, it could have have been much easier…and I know what she means. Beacuse trying to understand if the dress you are sewing fits you or not while three children create energy from nothing in a room that is big as the smallest toilet of your house, is really a challenge. They cannot sit for so long, I tell her while closing the elevator doors. I imagine she is reliefed. Or maybe she is not. Becuase there, in her tiny apartment, she had never had a baby hand spreading chocolate on a white chair. Or baby lips kissing her goodnight after a long day. And now that is is 75, she has all the time in the world to set up the house again. After the storm. Or maybe she will just sit down on the sofa and think where to keep. The broken chair. That will remind until her last day on this earth the big loss that she had. She had a carreer, she was very good in her job. And for the cause of her profession she didn’t want to have children. She is right. And I am so sorry for her. No one is more noisy than children at this age. But this noise, I can see in her eyes, is the leg of the chair she is missing so much. Unfortunately for her, it is too late…

back to the past…

Mum, if you could go back in time, would you get married so young again?
I pour the coffee on my skirt while the bride, after having thrown as a stone in the sea her philosophical question, is sitting in front of me writing on her bbm to a destination that is across the Ocean.
Well…I start thinking. This is a trap. Pay attention, I say to myself. Be calm, don’t answer too quickly. I breath deeply. I relax. And memories come back to me as birds going back to their nests. My first child as a baby, with her giant brown eyes, while pronouncing her first word, learning to read, hugging me on her way back from camp. My second neverstopping hunger, his haircut at the age of three, fighting with the sister. My third child opening her blue eyes for the first time, being defined ‘the sun of the class’ at the age of 5. My fourth child preferred video, his allergy to the detergent. My fifth child ceasarian, his being so small compared to my prevoius babies. My sixth child being the copy of the third one, her way of jumping while singing the Chanuka song about the doughnuts. My seventh child sleepless nights, his unique way of saying ‘amen!’ to every good thing we wish.
The coffee has dried on my skirt. The bride is still writing bbms maybe having forgotten the quetion she made some minutes ago. I wake up from my journey in the past. I take her hand and I tell her: You know what? I would never change one thing of my life. If I had the opportunity to start everything again, I would do all exactly the same. I would get married at 19, have you at the age of 20, go on studying in university, having your brothers and sisters, working, writing, sitting with you here in our kitchen trying to come out from this mad plan of getting married in five weeks…I would never change anything, believe me. Though it was hard, sometimes very tough. Becuase the amount of love I received every day in my life is the most precious thing I will ever own. And I would never give up to it for all the freedom in the world….