How to turn a less cheerful birthday into a calm and positive day.
Yesterday was a day like any other. The sun came out in the east, the hours passed, the news was read on the telly, everything was the same... But for me, it was another anniversary of a day that marked me. Exactly eleven years and one day ago, a good friend of mine left the plane of reality. Although we may think that there may be something beyond the attainable and the tangible, the fact is that this person will never again be there to hug me, kiss me or simply talk about trivial or more transcendent matters. I know that this is the normal course for all of us. Immortality is not a characteristic of any living being. But no matter how rational we want to be, the feeling of longing is always stronger than any logic we can apply.
I decided to walk to the place where my father's ashes were placed. On the way, I found myself thinking about the good times, and of course the not-so-good times we spent together, the things I'd like to share with him "today" and the possible answers he could give me.
It was a particularly sunny Saturday afternoon for the autumn days that are already upon us. When I arrived at the cemetery, I found the iron gate, painted dark green, completely closed. The sign with the timetable put paid to my plans. But let's face it, it's not because I'm in a place and can't visit it that I stop myself, and let be shaken for that.
The cemetery closes at 5pm... A few minutes past the hour, but that little setback turned out to be something positive. I sat on top of an outdoor box belonging to a communications company, and found myself travelling in those brief moments when I looked over the wall of the building. Graves and gravesites are always a tough reminder for us to stop attaching importance to what really isn't important. Life is too short not to have an attitude of gratitude for what we have today, without expecting to receive more, or to have what we think could be better for us.
Reflections aside, after three quarters of an hour, I decided to go back to bed, but this time on a different route from the one I had chosen.
And lo and behold, I pass probably the smallest public garden I've ever been in! It was no more than 30 square metres. Despite its small size, it had a table with four chairs, where a cultural magazine, carefully propped up with a stone from the pavement, invited you to browse. A sculpture in honour of the Fireman, erected in 1981, contemplates those who rest or pass the time in this little green courtyard, probably playing cards or checkers.
A Hibiscus tree (Hibiscus rosa-simensis) and a Camellia poorly decorate this small corner, which still has material from the remodeling it is undergoing.
At the end of an afternoon that I thought would go one way but ended up going in a completely different direction, I found myself contemplating simple things in the simplest and most humble garden I had ever visited.
A lesson to be learnt...
Bem Hajam 🍀
Photographic edition with PhotoScape X
