Monday, December 27, 2010

You can only go forward, no backward allowed

Two days after Christmas, buried in snow, we still survive.
The future? Who cares?
This is the good side of realizing you are getting old.
The future doesn´t scare you anymore, because it is just a prolonged present.
You appreciate youth when you are old, and you appreciate old age when you are dying.
Because there is always something worse.
Christmas is one of those moments in which you remember the past.
The smell of paper and ink, the place where when I was a child we used to buy the Christmas tree´s decorations, every year a few new colored pieces to wrap and put aside the first days of January.
The long walks in the woods to pick up the moss for the "Presepio", the hours spent to paint the sky and the stars, the small lakes made with an empty metal box where the sheeps were drinking.
The candles, the lights, the songs, the presents, everything was magic.
Then you ask what has become of the child who was dreaming a happy and glamorous life, how that child can be the woman of today, and you realize the biggest tragedy of life: you can only go forward, no backward allowed.
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