Life is endless, the end is for Vecchi, old people. The people of whom you think are antiquato, not living in the reality of today. Who are of no use to the world, who cost a lot of money because they do not work anymore. Useless Vecchi, uh?
But you are so wrong, you make an errore!! Did you ever think we were young too? Can you immiginare that we were bambini? With little hands and feet, large brown eyes and theehtless little mouths, depending on the amara and care of our parents? Bambini that were taught to eat and walk?
For you it is not so long ago bellissima. You only think it is a long time ago because you have been living your life in a very fast ritmo, as if your life would be over soon. So typical for the young people. You are rushing through life and act at the age of fifteen if you have seen the whole world. If you know it all, if there are no sorprese left for you anymore. You are telling us that we need to shut up!
Do you know the espressione inglese "The youth is waisted on the young"?
Mie scuse bellissima, I know I am a bit harsh on you and I should not because I have been young too. And I too thought that I was wiser than my parents, let alone my grandparents! In fact my grandparents were wiser than my parents! And of course my parents were wiser than I was but I did not understand.
It is good that you do not think about tomorrow or next year. You need to be young and energico. Your youth is one big rehearsal for your adult life. Aaaahhh.... discovering the little secrets of amare: to kiss and make love. Yes, I am smiling when I think of that time. There were so many hidden corners in the barns of the vineyards that surrounded the little villagio! Noi Italiani have warm blood uh? And the sole is always shining!
And the girls were so very bella! When we were picking the grapes under the warm sole we could not always resist kissing one of the beautiful girls and we promised to see each other again where the adults could not see us. We did not think of our parents as people who did the same when they were young and who knew all the nooks and crannies! You will be surprised to hear that I was caught with Fabia, but too late! She was pregnant already as we found out not long after.
Are you shocked bellissima? Did you not know that in my villagio half the population was fathered this way? Well, here you are bellissima, you think you know it all but this is still a sorpresa!!
Today in this modern world it is not a shame anymore, you do not even marry. But I had to marry Fabia and it turned out to be a very good marriage. We got 9 children, il pastore told us that we need to have as many as possible children as good catolici. And we obeyed but also often prayed for money to raise all these children. That is why our youngest Leopoldo moved away from the villagio. He did not understand the rules of the church.
Aaahh bellissima..... Leopoldo..... he was quite a character! He did it all his own way. He walked days and days to start a new life in a city! But he too grew wiser and one day he returned to start his own business in the villagio in these beautiful hills of Tuscany. It sounds if the villagio was large enough for a new business but that was not the fact. He came back just after Severino, the owner of the Funeral Services, died. Yes, he was not immortal either!
Leopoldo did not talk about his life in the city, we always thought he must have left a big segreto behind. But he must have had a good income because he paid the widow of Severino a good sum of money.
But the poor donna who was as old and lifeless as the customers of her late husband, did not know what to do with so much money. We still don't know who inherited it or where she spent it on. One of the segreti of the villagio. Maybe you will find it one day??
Leopoldo was a gentile undertaker who never married. Angry tongues said he was still married but left his wife in the city. Others said he murdered his wife and was now an undertaker to punish himself for what he had done. But the truth was never revealed.
Leopoldo was not the only one that left the villagio, many others left too but never returned to live here again. The villagers grew too old to work in the vineyards and there was no one to buy the yards from them.
Our villagio became a forgotten corner where Vecchi looked after each other.
And all these Vecchi, once young and beautiful, returned to their babyhood: they were teethless again, walking was very difficult and tripping over was normal, like being toddlers. Some lost their speech and muttered and drooled like bambini. Again they lost control over their muscles and needed large nappies.
You see bellissima, slow down your pace, you will be back where you started even before you realise you lived a life.
It was after the last but one old villager died, that Leopoldo left the villagio again. Indeed was Leopoldo the last survivor of generations of persone, he left without a trace. And I could not follow him because I was bound to the cemetery together with everybody else that was buried here.
We watched him parking his beautiful old coaches which served us all followed by famiglia and amici.
Once we walked behind them ourselves and all were carried here in the same black coaches with the carved ornaments on top, the pillars with the gold painted crowns, the large wheels that rolled through the dust, the coachman sitting at his high place, guiding the black cavalli to the church for the last farewell.
|Photo: @glory.of.disrepair (Instagram)|
Leopoldo did not look back. He crossed the cemetery, stood still for a moment as if he wanted to say addio to us. We saw his lips moving but did not hear words. Then he walked away, we could not stop him and returned to our graves after he was only a tiny black spot, disappearing behind a long forgotten vineyard.
It is here where my story for you ends, bellissima. "
Word of thanks: the photo of @glory.of.disrepair (Instagram) inspired me to write this story and I was given permission to use the photo as an illustration for which I am very grateful. Thank you Mathias!
Link: please visit the beautiful Instagram account of @glory.of.disrepair
Note: the story is pure fiction! A figment of my imagination!