I play doing Robert

Hello my son, how are you?

Hi Dad, I’m fine. Your voice is weird, does something happened to “little grandmother”?

Oh no, no. Her health situation is steady. So what’s your voice? I do not like it, I’m remembering bad stuff.

Oh, nothing. Some mornings ago I set out to “play at being Robert”.

Play at being Robert? Explained better Dad.

Nothing special. As you know, I sit on the terrace at six in the morning, I was reading as usual, until suddenly it started to drizzle. Damn! Are several months that is too hot. We all want, at last, a little rain. We need rain like plants and rivers.

Are you telling me that? You at least will have the sea; here is just hot and wet. So what have you done?

Well, I see that you can already picture something.

Of course; you see.

I stopped reading and I looked up straight; the stretch of sea that separates “us” from the mainland appeared unusually threatening, mournful, anguishing. A thin thread of fog was suspended in midwater while sunlight was preparing to arrive. The light would have dissolved it with its heat but… Above me instead threatening clouds, full of rain, very dark: they wanted to reach the sea. It seemed to challenge it in a duel.

An enchanting place, don’t you?

A light thunder announced the challenge, a little later the first drops of rain. A few drops, small, but progressively larger and heavier. I closed the book, already been assaulted by some big drops, and I launched it indoors, over the armchair. A dull thud, muffled softly, but in that quietness did clang unusual. I closed my eyes and slowly I focused my attention on any single drop “landing” on my body, trying to follow the sequence. Ear, shoulder, hand / head, knee, arm / shoulder, hand, knee, etc. Initially it was easy to follow but soon it became difficult: the rain began to come down abundantly. Cats and dogs were raining.

I became part of the game; I let myself go. In my head the world seemed to stopped spinning. Then I started following – by my mind’s eyes – the rivulets of drops crossing the various parts of the body; on the back, neck, on legs, arms, cheeks etc. A fancy of small shivers furrows left by the containment of drops collected. [Inside me – but I can’t tell you, my son, – I wished, I hoped, that those streams could take away the thoughts: the melancholy that fill my heart, the anguish of loneliness. I hoped that would lead away, finally – silently – my Soul].

Dad, you are really amazing; If I had not respect of you; I would say you’re crazy.

Probably I am, my son, but I can guarantee that the feelings I have had were really unique, special. Once completely “invaded” by the rain, I began to think, ignoring the delicate tickle of the water to devote myself on my own thoughts.

What kind of thoughts Dad?

Well, hard to condense them into a synthesis, I mean. They are freewheeling; it is not easy to transcribe; you have to “live” them. Melancholy and joy have been released; Thoughts. Thinking of what you’ve lost and what you possess. A budget of affection and suffering, perhaps. At the end I found myself shivering, too cold.

You mean that you stay sitting a long? Yes, too much. I don’t know how much but. I finally gathered the strength to get up: I was petrified. I felt the need to take a hot shower and then I went back to bed. Before noon I had dizziness and I could not walk by the pain in the bones and muscles. The neck glands and armpits are swollen. Since three days I’m so but now it’s all right.

You paid a heavy price for playing at Robert, Dad. Don’t you?

Yes I know, a high price. Too High.

You’re unpredictable Dad, but how can you do? At your age?

By now: you should know me, my son.

Yes, I know you: after all, you “are” Robert. Nice to meet you but, please, have respect for your health. Let me this promise: collect strength and raised. I still need you: please don’t give up.



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