– Son, I hope the weekend comes to read that book you like so much together.
– I hope so, Dad.
– Son, I feel like resting for a while. To stop this speed, to celebrate the birthday with your mother and make a big party for the three of us.
I’d like to get out of the rut for a while and have more time for you and her. Hopefully the day will come when we can get up without rushing, have breakfast and laugh together. Sing songs and BE out of tune.
I wish the day would come when we could look out of the window and quietly feel the sun on our skin. The day when we can breathe clean air and feel grateful. And let’s stop for a moment and think about it: Give thanks for the sun. For the air. For being able to breathe.
May we be silent on that day and the world may speak. And the trees will smile. The birds will fly happily and sing loudly. And let nothing and no one interrupt them. No cars, no planes, no traffic jams, no sirens… May we all applaud together from the balcony for being alive and enjoying it.
– Son, may the day come when we realize that this planet is on loan, and that it will soon pass to you and your children and grandchildren. And that together we can respect it and take care of it. And that it is a gift.
Perhaps that day we will value what cannot be bought with money. The hugs, the kisses, the quiet secrets whispered, in your ear. The silence. The family moments. The affection of grandparents and the caresses. Looking into each other’s eyes without screens and just feeling. To be.
Hopefully one day we will not have to identify with what we do, but with who we are.
– Dad … at school I got a letter. They say humans are getting sick. And that in order to heal we must all stay home and not go out. Maybe 15 days. Maybe a month … Dad …
– Yes, son?
– Dad, I think the day you talk so much about has finally arrived.