Название: Memories Of Our Days
Автор: Chiara Cesetti
Издательство: Tektime S.r.l.s.
Жанр: Современная зарубежная литература
isbn: 9788835418733
isbn:
Clara was the image of her father. She had black and curly hair, her skin was amber and glowing, her eyes had an undefined dark green colour and her upright posture made her into a beautiful creature.
She showed self-control and stubbornness which discouraged any quarrel with her. Looking at her, her mother prayed to God she would always make the right choices, because she knew that nobody would have deflected her from anything she had set her mind on. Her mother too found it difficult to get deep down her soul. At times, during a discussion, she was concerned to see her isolate herself with her thoughts, leaving herself out of conversations on purpose and chase one of her secret feelings, she would then make an effort within herself to get back and take part in the conversation. If was almost as if she wanted to create an alibi towards the others, just to avoid being questioned about her silence.
One evening, she was just over three, they were all sitting around the table for dinner. The kitchen was well lit and heated by the fire which was blazing in the big fireplace. The room was connected to a large dark hall, at the end of which there were the hall door to the house and halfway through the corridor, the staircase leading to the bedrooms upstairs..everybody was around the table. The little girl was quiet as usual, she was sitting with her back to the hall. All of a sudden she let off a scream and got down from the chair.
-What’s up? What’s happening?- Giovanni took her immediately on his lap, frightened while she was screaming, clung to her father’s neck.
-What did you see?-
They dashed to the hall. Everything was fine.
-There is nothing, look, there’s nothing, you see?- The lit up room was empty.
Everyone was very busy around her trying to comfort her, to convince her that nothing had happened and nothing would have happened. She was quite stubborn and kept on shaking and crying, so upset from that shadow that had suddenly appeared in her soul. When she realised that there were too many people sharing her dismay, she wriggled out of her father’s hug, went back to her seat and started eating leaving everybody in shock because without saying words that she did not know yet, with her quiet and composed attitude seemed to tell all of them - Please excuse me and don’t worry about me, this is my business and I’ll deal with that myself. Now please ignore me-
She was never in conflict with her mother. She understood her ways and did not like to get in conflict with her. She had taken from her mother, her apparent natural quietness and her emotional self-control, but also she was sure of her actions because they were well-thought-out knowing that she would take responsibility for the consequences. Their personalities were quite similar but she had never shown much closeness, as if she had received from her everything since her birth and there was nothing left to learn.
She was fascinated by her father, her eyes lit up with deep excitement when she saw him, delighted to sit on his knees or on his shoulders, she was so tall she could rule over the world.
-Claclà, come here- he used to say to her in the evening before sitting down at the table. While the women finished up making the dinner, in winter, beside the fireplace, among the familiar smells mixing together in the house at the end of the day, or in summer, under the porch where the smell from the countryside blended with the smells of the animals, Giovanni would put her astride his boots and she would fly around the place, his strong hands holding hers.
-Up you go!
They were rare moments when she was laughing loud. When they were about to stop playing, after flying around higher one last time, he would take her in his arms and she would rather breathless smell his work jacket deeply and the laughter would stay in her eyes for a long time.
Antonio would get in between them, even though he would not enjoy himself as much as her. Sometimes he felt as if he was almost an intruder and, feeling slightly uneasy, he would move away and go back to what he was doing before or just watch them enjoy themselves. Giovanni would walk by him and pet his head or take his chin in between his fingers, saying -Hey, young man! Shaking him vigorously.
Antonio, Antonino, had a different temperament than his sister. He was leading a quieter childhood looking around more hesitantly, looking for comfort in the care given by his mother and his aunts. Even though Clara was two years younger, she would make their decisions when they were together and he was happy enough to stand by them, without making any fuss.
She was organising their games.
-You are the daddy now and you are riding home on your horse, I make the dinner. This is my garden and you come and see me......-
Antonino followed the instructions, happy to enjoy her company without arguing. He was physically smaller than his sister, he had great big dark eyes sometimes a little scared which were looking around eager to get the family’s approval. He was submissive and reserved, he did not raise barriers between his request for affection and the desire of the adults to give it to him. He let them love him without difficulty.
He really worshipped his mother, she felt exactly the same for him. When they were together, Giulia’s eyes, usually rather stern, sparkled with infinite sweetness just for him.
He was never completely at his ease with his father. Although Giovanni was not a grouchy person, he was a little intimidated by his presence and he preferred to run into the women’s arms in the household.
Three years after Clara’s birth, the two twins were born: Agnese and Luciano.
The last months into the pregnancy were the toughest for Giulia: her belly was huge and that was one of the hottest and longest summers of the last years. Her legs were swollen all the time and she found it difficult to move. Ada and Maria tried to get her to rest as much as she could and were secretly happy to take her place, even as a mum. Although Giulia did not complain that much, everyone was concerned about her. Giovanni, especially over the last few days, used to come home mid-morning or during the afternoon to find out how she was. He would find her often lying down on the bed of their bedroom in semi-darkness, propped against two pillows to try and breath more easily.
The day of the delivery, on September 18th, dr Marinucci did not leave her for one second and followed her labour all night with concern.
At ten o’clock in the morning, the twins were finally born: tiny and purple, they were showing the signs of a distressful labour and seemed to be rather frail. The little girl started to cry quite loud and calmed down as soon as she was put to her mother’s breasts, sucking her mother’s milk with unexpected energy. The little boy, on the other hand, would get easily tired and his meals were long and tiring. As soon as it was the right time, the aunts started to make food for him, with milk, sugar and olive oil, in order to complement his diet and get his mother to have a rest, she was exhausted from a breast feeding that would go on for hours.
Once the first few months were over, Agnese turned into a strong and hungry little girl, very similar to her father as far as her strong body was concerned.
Giulia, on her part, after the first days when she was exhausted, was happy to feel free from that burden that would give her little freedom. Despite all the things that had to be done, in a short period of time, she was happy again and rediscovered the happiness to look after the family. The aunts were vital to run the household now. Each of them seemed to have found their role in the inner workings of the family, letting every hidden tension go.
The doctor advised against new pregnancies and there was no more talk of pregnancies between the two spouses.
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