At some point in our lives, we start measuring events not by the clock or the calendar, but by similar events in our past. They trigger our memory.
I was remembering when we were in Sardinia (Sardegna, in Italian; Cerdeña, in Spanish), and every night after dinner we would watch the World Cup. This means it was four years ago. And I remember applauding the Argentine team when they won, and everybody looking at me in a strange way. Of course, they were all either Italian or German.
This “remembrance of things past” is not hollow. It is quite poignant. We were supposed to stay there two more weeks, and then go visit friends in Florence and Lake Garda. But – we had to cut our stay short and come back home fast. It was the beginning of four years of seeing doctors and doing all kinds of “interventions” (yes, shamans too, and maybe some divine ones) so that someone could figure out what was ailing Guido.
We never found out. To this day, with another World Cup at our doorstep, we are in the dark. Guido is stable now, at least. Gone are the days when I had to call an ambulance and take him to the hospital. For nothing.
I still dream of continuing that interrupted vacation in Italy. Now, I have to get well so that we can do it. And, of course, Guido has to be better. Fast. We cannot wait until the next World Cup to do it…