Banish thoughts

It's you and me, sitting on the ground in the middle of a street with no desire to move from there. The cars whizzing by and the people watching, me thinking about what goes through your heart and head, your skin full of burns and scars, boiling milk ending up on your head instead of in a cup. I don't know what you think about, what memories, how many thoughts. The distraction of a moment would be enough to go away from there, from the place where you were stuck on the concrete of a sidewalk and in a fold of your heart, but the beautiful thought that chases away bad worries just doesn't arrive.

Mother Nature miscalculated and gave you an extra chromosome number 21. You have a special heart that feels everything sooner and stronger than mine. Evil and good come immediately, a hug is enough to reach infinity, the wrong word to shut down the house and the puppets and remain still staring into space for an indefinite time without wanting to listen to reasons. Every child goes on his own journey, made up of runs and hugs, of screams and embarrassments, an infinite series of falls and some unexpected triumphs, a handful of tears that wet the face and a sea of ​​fear that remains inside, an inexhaustible need for confirmation and reassurances.
Your trip was already a real mess: dad who was never there, but then one day he suddenly comes back, like in a fairy tale. You who eat him up with kisses and hugs and just want to play with him. Playing ball, hide and seek, the wolf who pretends to be bad but deep down is a big puppy hungry for cuddles more than children. This dad who came from nowhere really doesn't add up to you, you love him of course, but at a certain point will he stop making an ugly face like the wolf you always want to play with and start tickling you until you die of laughter?

We are here, standing in the middle of the road, looking for a beautiful thought to chase away an ugly thought. I think maybe you hear and see that.
Dad's screams and blows. The cloud of smoke around your brother who, after a bad accident, no longer understands anything and ruins his whole day with joints. The tears of your mother who cries, cries and cries again: around you and her only people who are sick and who hurt. You only knew peace at dawn after the sound of the sirens, the police one night and the ambulance the next. Goodnight and sweet dreams. Until they told mum she had to send dad back to where dad came from so he wouldn't lose you too. The Arsenal of Peace also welcomes many children with disabilities like you: moments together with everyone else and dedicated paths in an individualized relationship, diving and diving in the pool, participation in work groups with teachers, educators, social workers , doctors to get to know the other people who are making this journey with you and try to generate projects that can guarantee respect for your rights

And now you're here. You eat and you're still hungry. You break a thousand things and afterwards you are angrier than before. Other children who learn to read and write, you can't even speak. You run away from school and the police find you.
You go to the doctor who is supposed to teach you how to speak and you play running up the stairs and out, she, full of fear, locks you in the rehabilitation session room. You play at hiding so well that everyone is scared of losing you, you see a wall and you climb so high that you can't get down.

I wonder how you'll do it. And how will mom do it. Now that you learn to say bad words and have fun making bad gestures. Now that we see you grow up and your journey will continue without us. Did we love you enough?
Will you find friends as great as the love you know how to give and need? Will you continue to happily run away from monsters who steal socks and wolves who fall asleep after catching you? It makes me want to sit down too. On the concrete of your sidewalk, in the fold of your heart and look at the Sky. And wait until the beautiful thought arrives, dispelling bad thoughts.

Marco Grossetti
NP June / July 2024