The heart of memory

That summer evening the sea breeze blew gently caressing my skin as I stood on the terrace savoring old age.

For many years my wife Sofia and I had retired to our house in Giglio Campese, a small village located on the western side of the splendid Isola del Giglio, a small Tuscan town in the center of the Tyrrhenian Sea not far from the Argentario promontory.

The withdrawal was necessary as I had been diagnosed with a rare degenerative genetic disease for which there was no cure.

I decided to leave my job to enjoy the last years of my life, Sofia had followed me to stay by my side and take care of me.

For about a month I had been confined to a wheelchair and had also lost my sight, ironically for an art critic who had been lucky enough to see the greatest masterpieces of human ingenuity all his life.

God had taken away from me the tool with which I had worked my entire life but I accepted it and my wife Sofia was so sweet and patient that she was by my side at every moment of the day.

More than once I recommended that she leave me in a retirement home so she could start a new life because I knew how much she was giving up to stay close to me and yet she always gave me the same, comforting answer.

<< Are you crazy Wolfgang? After everything we've been through together, how can you ask me something like that? >> he replied in a serious tone.

I knew she would say it and in my heart I hoped to always hear that same phrase and yet I felt obliged to remind her of it from time to time, as if I had to clear my conscience for the imposition I was placing on her.

I loved her from the first moment I saw her, for me it was love at first sight but now that I think about it I had never asked her if it had been the same for her too.

I hadn't struggled much to win her over but I had always refused to ask her for clarification on the matter and I certainly wasn't willing to do so now.

I was quite skeptical about living on the island however, once we moved to the new house, I wondered why we hadn't done it before.

Giglio Campese was located on the western side of the Island of Giglio, in the center of an enchanting bay framed by a stack on the left, a monolithic rock that emerged for about twenty meters and from the tip of the fenaio on the right, the extreme north of the island with the the homonymous lighthouse.

Its western exposure made it the ideal scene for splendid sunsets and in the past Sofia and I used to walk along the marina admiring the sun slowly lowering to the horizon while enjoying an exquisite pistachio ice cream, our favorite flavour.

The symbol of Giglio Campese was the imposing Medici tower that I had had the pleasure of visiting more than once, from whose top you could enjoy a stupendous view.

For our wedding anniversary I organized a candlelit dinner at the top of the tower with a red rose on the table covered with a white tablecloth embroidered in gold.

Sofia loved it and even though I repeated this ritual every year she always had tears in her eyes once we reached the top.

The tower overlooked the beach, the largest on the island, long and wide with dark red grainy sand whose seabed quickly dropped in depth.

On the right, in front of the tower, there was a small port where we rented a boat, the " Anfitrite ", with which Sofia and I explored much of the island.

During the summer it was a pleasure to immerse myself in those pristine crystalline waters and once I finished swimming I loved lying on the warm sand, letting myself dry by the sun's rays.

From the beach there was a magnificent view of the bay and thanks to its western exposure I could enjoy the sun until late in the evening, ideal for outdoor dining.

If I sometimes made Sofia angry, all I had to do was take her to "Luigi", a little restaurant just a stone's throw from the sea, whose waves swept away her anger.

<> Sofia repeated to me, smiling at me;

<> I replied.

His blue eyes lit up with a particular light, I found it a miracle from God because only a superior being could create something so wonderful.

Even though I had worked for decades in the art world and was fortunate enough to admire great masterpieces, nothing could match the light in those eyes.

Fantastic memories destined to remain so, since my illness had worsened none of this was possible for me.

<< Come Wolfgang, it's time for dinner >> Sofia said, interrupting the flow of my thoughts.

I felt her long silver hair touch my hands, they felt like silk, they were so white and soft, they gave me a feeling of relaxation.

<> he asked as I approached the table;

<< As usual, to be honest. What's good? I smell a nice scent >>;

<>.

I heard the silver fork clatter on the porcelain plate as it grabbed some fish and then headed towards my white-whiskered lips.

<< Open your mouth >> Sofia exhorted me;

<> I joked, cracking a smile.

With a considerable effort I bit into that delicious food and immediately noticed the lemon aftertaste that I loved to feel in fish, fortunately Sofia had not yet forgotten my culinary preferences.

After dinner we went to the terrace where he sat on my legs, resting his head on my left cheek.

It was our moment of intimacy during which we remained silent exchanging thoughts with each other, we didn't need words to understand what we were feeling.

We felt it through osmosis, it was a sort of sixth sense that had accompanied us since our first meeting in Florence.

Staying there in the evening helped us reconcile with ourselves and with the world, the only noise we heard was the silence of nature that enveloped us all around.

<< Here is Simurg returning from his flight >> Sofia announced.

Suddenly I felt feathers caressing the skin of my hands and I immediately recognized the delicacy of our pet.

It was a " Pharomachrus mocinno " brightly colored male with pink-green plumage, yellow bill and elongated tail coverts, also green.

Characteristic of Latin America, it was given to us by the Mexican government as a sign of gratitude for the restoration work that Sofia and I carried out on behalf of the Ministry of Culture on the " Epopeya del pueblo mexicano ", murals by Diego Rivera inside the National Palace in Mexico City.

It depicted the history of Mexico from ancient times to the present day, it was divided into three sections on three walls divided thematically in chronological order: ancient Mexico, the colonial past up to the present and the future.

We worked on the western wall which was the central part of the work in which the history of Mexico was told as a series of conflicts, rebellions and revolutions against oppression.

Initially we wanted to leave Simurg in his native country, however he immediately became fond of him so we kept him and brought him with us to the island.

We left him free to fly wherever he wanted and every evening, punctual like clockwork, he returned home for food.

He loved to sit on the armrest of my wheelchair to keep us company, I couldn't see him but I was sure he was watching us curiously.

I often wondered what he was thinking as he sat there eating, watching me and Sofia cuddle with each other.

<< This boy is hungry, I'm going to get him dinner >> said Sofia, slowly getting up from my legs;

<> I asked without getting an answer.

He simply rubbed a few feathers on my hand, and when Sofia returned with her favorite invertebrates, I felt him eagerly biting into them.

<>.

<< Blessed is he who is free to fly wherever he wants, I am imprisoned in this wheelchair >> I replied sadly;

<>;

<< You can be sure of this but I wouldn't have done it even in my health, you are the best thing that has happened to me in my life and I don't regret even a second of the time we spent together >> I replied in a resolute tone;

<> said Sofia.

I raised my hands to dry her tears and when I reached her face I felt those little liquid diamonds gushing out of her eyes.

I seemed to dip my fingers in a mountain stream, one of those found in the most inaccessible parts, left there by Mother Nature to give a little refreshment to the valiant adventurers who pushed into her wild womb.

<> Sofia cut short, moving her velvety cheeks away from my hand;

<< Goodnight Simurg , see you tomorrow >>.

During the hot season he slept outdoors, probably perching in one of the trees in the wooded part of the island, however in the cold he appreciated the warmth that our house offered him so he sat down on one of the sofas and slowly fell asleep and then took off again in flight at the first light of dawn.

Sometimes Sofia and I would lurk behind a door and enjoy watching him fall asleep with his belly full of invertebrates.

He was the son we had never had due to some infertility problems that we both suffered from but we were not discouraged.

When we received it we wanted to return it, scared of the possibility that it wouldn't settle in and because we were afraid of not being able to take care of it but instead it was love at first sight.

It flew all over the island of Giglio and I still remember that time when I saw it appear out of nowhere while I was on the beach, it swooped down from above and landed on my shoulder, scratching me a little.

Some people nearby got scared thinking it was an eagle or something and it made me laugh out loud.

<> I said stroking his head before seeing him leave again for who knows where but I knew that in the evening I would see him return home and so it was.

<< Here we are in bed >> said Sofia;

<< Thanks dear, I'll do it myself now >>;

<< Wait while… >>;

<< I still know how to do it >> I cut short, annoyed.

I stretched out my hands and made sure I had reached the bed, with a great effort I threw myself onto the mattress like a circus performer.

<< Sooner or later you'll break your neck, you know that?! >> Sofia reproached me;

<< You can rest assured, I've been doing this since I was a kid and nothing has ever happened to me so you have nothing to fear >> I smiled at her;

<>;

<> I replied a little offended.

Sofia didn't reply, aware of my wide arsenal of jokes and I also felt very tired so I managed to easily wear down her resistance.

That night I struggled to sleep, ironically coming from a blind man, yet the heat was suffocating me and the breeze that had previously come in through the bedroom windows had disappeared, as if it had gone to have fun somewhere in the middle of the sea.

I didn't want to wake Sofia who was sleeping soundly, I could feel her diaphragm contracting and relaxing with perfect regularity.

With an effort I lifted my arms and sat up in bed, the sweating immediately decreased and I began to breathe again.

I rested my head against the wall and thought of the splendid house in which I was lucky enough to live, a true jewel of organic architecture.

We had created it with the aim of promoting harmony between mankind and nature by creating a system in balance between the built and natural environment, dialectically they related, becoming part of a single interconnected architectural organism.

It was located in the northern part of Giglio Campese and to reach it, starting from the small port, you had to go up a gravel road.

The fulcrum of the house was the large living-dining room, a single room where the function of defining the different areas was carried out by the furnishings.

In one room there was a music area with a turntable for my classical music vinyls, a study area with desks and shelving, a dining area with North Carolina grained walnut furnishings on plywood and the actual living area own, structured around the fireplace.

In the east corner of the living room, in addition to the entrance, there was the staircase that led to the upper floors, where there were more private areas such as the bedrooms.

The various rooms, located further back from the ground floor, were enclosed by large glass windows that freed the view towards the beach and communicated with the outside via cantilevered terraces covered in gold leaf.

I thought about my situation, an expert art critic married to an art restorer who lives in a house comparable to a masterpiece of modern architecture.

I could rightly say that I brought my work home.

At that thought a short laugh escaped me which I immediately stifled for fear of waking Sofia who didn't hear my ironic outburst.

The more I thought about it, the more funny I found this situation, which I only became aware of in that instant, surrounded by physical and environmental darkness.

That sudden hilarity brought me a good night's sleep, the next morning I woke up full of a desire to live like I hadn't had in a long time.

<> said Sofia, helping me get into the wheelchair.

I told her what had happened the previous night, the more I thought about it the more laughter it caused me, improving my mood.

<> Sofia said handing me a hot croissant.

That day the sun had decided to show itself strong and vigorous from dawn so Sofia stayed in the house with me.

I heard her go to the maple shelf where we kept the classical music vinyls, take one and go to the record player.

I immediately recognized Chopin's "Improvised Fantasy", by far my favorite of which I adored everything, from the initial "Allegro agitato" to the short connecting bridge that opens the lyrical moment of the central part, a "Moderato cantabile" where the silent key changes to "C sharp major".

My favorite moment was undoubtedly the "Presto", a reprise in which the rhythm first loses momentum until it slows down visibly then, as if by magic, the lyrical theme of the central part reappears, giving those who listen to it a memory that is image of relief and hope, a brightening of colors after the storm.

When I listened to that song I felt my soul return to harmony with the world, that music managed to make me forget the darkest thoughts, it lit a light of hope in the darkest and most hidden depths of my being.

The internal storm that often disturbed the waters of my ego fell asleep, giving way to a joyful rainbow of happiness.

Sofia was watching me, I knew it because every time someone did it my ears became as tense as violin strings.

I had developed that characteristic since I was a child and now, as a blind person, it came in very handy especially when I made her angry.

In those moments he didn't speak to me but in the deafening silence that was created, I could clearly perceive his furious gaze hurling himself at me.

<< Is there something you want to tell me? >> I asked her;

<>;

<>;

<< How can you say that? >> tried to defend himself;

<> I revealed to her;

<< Wolfgang Schubert, you are a constant surprise. I was looking at you because I love seeing your look while listening to Chopin, it makes me happy to know that you are well >>.

I wanted to argue but I couldn't find the strength so I limited myself to a shy smile, Chopin's music was almost finished and I wanted to enjoy the final part.

Around lunchtime the delivery man arrived to deliver some fresh fish that we would eat for dinner. Since we were on the island Sofia had devoted herself to cooking and over time she had become a refined cook.

After lunch the sun decided to give us a break so we decided to head into the town to take a walk along the marina, eat an ice cream and relax sitting at one of the tables in the "L'imbarcazione" bar located right next to the port.

First we went to the bedroom to change clothes and for the occasion I was able to put on the big brown sun hat that I used to love to show off when we went hiking in the past.

Given my health conditions we were forced to call Franco, a trusted friend of ours born on the island, from which he had never left.

He was a rather curious guy with disheveled black hair and a bulbous nose, languid brown eyes and a strange way of walking.

He swayed left and right like a pendulum and when I tried to ask him why he glossed over another topic, perhaps he felt tough in acting like that towards others but he didn't want to say it.

When he arrived to put me in the van I heard his deep, hoarse voice coming from the front door as he greeted Sofia.

<> I heard him ask;

<< In a good mood, I just dressed him. Please have a seat >> Sofia replied.

I heard their footsteps getting closer and closer until they reached a few centimeters from me, I could distinctly feel Franco's labored breathing on my neck.

<< Hi Wolfgang, how are you? >> he asked me, shaking my hand;

<< I'm happy to see you again. I wonder when you will stop smoking >> I replied;

<< Unfortunately, some vices never leave you >> he retorted, patting me on the shoulder.

He grabbed my legs with his strong arms while Sofia took the wheelchair, we went down the stairs and in a few minutes we found ourselves in the van heading to the town that I hadn't seen for too long.

Sofia and I had made many friends on the island but had recently neglected them due to my ailments.

I was sad about this because we had struggled to settle in and it would have been a waste not to cultivate those relationships.

<< The fishermen in the area will be happy to see you again, some often ask me about the foreigner who lives above the village >> said Franco;

<< What do you answer? >> I asked curiously;

<< I tell them that you are enjoying your well-deserved retirement >>;

<> I justified myself;

<< Don't worry, they don't need to know. Let them think about fishing, this is none of their business."

I appreciated Franco's discretion, which is why our relationship went beyond simple friendship.

Since I got sick he took care of all our needs such as bringing us medicines, newspapers, shopping and always made himself available in case of need.

One evening I had a serious respiratory crisis, I needed the inhaler so Sofia called him and he had no problem getting up in the middle of the night to bring it to me.

Not being married certainly made him more available than he would have been in the presence of a wife and children, however I was certain that that was his true nature, he would probably have behaved in the same way.

Once we arrived at the bar I was placed in the wheelchair, Sofia and I sat down at one of the tables while Franco took his leave.

<< Thank you very much, I'll give you a call >> said Sofia;

<< At your disposal. Bye Wolfgang, see you later >>.

I reciprocated with a quick wave of the hand because I couldn't stand it anymore, I absolutely wanted to taste one of the fantastic ice creams in the bar that I hadn't had the pleasure of eating for too long.

When it arrived I bit into it greedily and what a wonderful explosion of flavor hit my mouth, it was an almost divine event.

<> I said, enjoying every single ounce of my snack;

<> Sofia replied;

<> I asked curiously;

<> he warned me;

<< Don't keep me on edge, spit it out >>.

Sofia took a deep breath, pausing for a few seconds to gather her strength.

<< Your birthplace in Vienna was burned down by a fire, I've known about it for a few days but I didn't find the courage to tell you right away. According to initial reconstructions it was a fault in the electrical system. I'm very sorry >>.

It was a terrible blow to the heart, it was the place where I was born and raised and once I decided to move to Giglio Campese I transformed it into a free museum.

Anyone could go and admire the works of my mother, a very talented painter to whom fate had not given the fortune she deserved.

I didn't know what to answer, my heart stopped while my breath stopped in mid-air, I felt the sweating suddenly accelerate and my stomach turned upside down.

I wanted to vomit but I managed to stop myself, I was already sick so I didn't want to arouse further pity in Sofia or in the people present at the bar.

My dignity was at stake and yet that delicious ice cream was turning out to be a boulder that my stomach wanted to get rid of as soon as possible.

<< Say something, please >> said Sofia, shaking me a little;

<< I..., ...well..., ...I think I...>> were the only words I managed to stammer;

<> I asked after gathering my strength;

<< Unfortunately they were all lost, the fire broke out around two in the morning and when the firefighters arrived they couldn't do anything.

Everything that was inside the apartment was lost, from what the government official told me there was only a pile of ashes left>>;

<> I asked out loud;

<< I'm really sorry, I must also inform you that the municipality has decided to close the entire building to carry out checks and, if they detect any critical issues in the entire structure, they will be forced to demolish it >>.

Upon hearing those words I felt faint, I couldn't believe that one of the most iconic and artistic places in Vienna was at risk of demolition due to an accident.

"I want to go home now! >> I said peremptorily.

Sofia called Franco who reached us in a short time, once we reached the van I was loaded back on board like a package and we returned home.

<< What happened? I feel it's strange >> Franco asked.

Sofia whispered in his ear, and even though I couldn't see him, I heard him swallow deeply as people who pity others usually do.

<> he said placing a hand on my shoulder immediately before loading me into the wheelchair;

"Thank you," I barely managed to say.

Left alone with Sofia I asked her to take me to the terrace, the only place where I felt safe and that day it was really hot so I wouldn't have been able to stay in the house anyway.

<>;

<> Sofia whispered.

I had a lump in my throat and tears welled up in my eyes, but I forced myself not to cry, for no reason in the world did I want to show weakness to Sofia.

<< Be strong, Wolfgang >> I thought with death in my heart.