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On 19 November was the birthday of his grandfather ... Irene by Irene



I love you grandpa! I miss you so much. A dock on the forehead, Manu

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Let your hand and move on, my little sister. Together, we are not alone. We share a life and our memories of dad are the same. Just look to see what, at that time, sadly reminded us of Dad. Tap recover, however, even for mothers, our husbands and our children that they ask. Manu wants to smile ... At least try moving on to the memory of dad jokes that he told us!
a kiss I love you, sister Paola

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Dear Dad,
since you left us, I am not a part of me, tied to grandparents, to Egypt ', in your speech in Arabic, the smells of the past, made up of passionate tales, a life full of events that made me dream and live like a fairytale.
It 's a bad feeling, because I grew up in this atmosphere and I want to ask so many things ... This
October 15th, my birthday, I foolishly wondered why I had not yet received your phone call in which I sang "Happy birthday to you ... .." I miss your unfailing good morning every morning and your good night. ... I know you would say: "Come on! Do not cry! Death is part of life! "I always think of your smile, before leaving, as we said you have Jesus behind you. I know you wanted to, once more, who do not reassure us by telling us he was just all there, to 20.50, in your bedroom, but you were only gone on before us. And this is what calms me, thanks dad!
These days I recall many episodes ... Di Paola and when I return to the rentals, we found the entrance to the house, all of our dolls, standing with open arms, while the recorder with your sweet voice, gave us welcome. And when, sitting in a chair, spent all night next to my bed, changing wipes of vinegar and water, to lower the fever. And the themes of Italian? Dictated to us and our children long compositions on subjects as diverse as history, politics, current events .... And when I asked jokingly write "in bad"? You, a bit 'hit and answered: "No, no, directly in beautiful, so is the final draft. " Because your dream was to become a journalist, and just after the war had created an own newspaper at age 23 but then you decided to get married and so have put dreams in a drawer by taking a job that will allow starting a family. Finally retire you started to write down your thoughts on white sheets that you so fascinated. And then you could communicate with many people, thus realizing your dream to write, write ...
E 'to these people I say thank you, because you were close even during his illness, because they have prayed for you while we were waiting I left the operating room, because they have continued to send messages even when you are sweet and encouraging, tired, listening to Manuela you read the post but you did not have the strength to respond
.
This is the love that's been around you, the love that we sometimes think no longer exists, a great love and intense that unites us all strong, strong in a big hug.
you dad and we were all close to you, lucid until the end, you're gone away, gently, slowly, slowly, on tiptoe, as you used to enter the lives of many people. ,
I miss you so much, Dad! Do you kiss your strong Irenina

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Thanks, Manu

've done what I wanted ... groped to keep alive the blog. Once again, you do not contradict with your ability to love deeply, who have always shown with his grandfather, able to prove to all those around you. You have an excellent sensitivity and feel really strong bond with you, close, deep, as feelings and as values.

you direct, sincere, true, uncompromising and recent troubles with anyone confirm this work, ... and with those beautiful eyes that you find you are able to enter the deep well of those who hardly know.

you really want, deep well. Grandpa will continue to be proud of you, and probably there will be satisfied that the blog is in your hands will not stop even to control, with the eyebrow "of the Oak" that does not mess .. But you trust, .. and did it well.

still a big kiss Paola

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If you are a treasure you want to write on this blog ...

'm Manuela, the granddaughter of Benito ... I know some, but others do not ... it is as if I knew all of you in this crazy split personality I'm still having to check e-grandfather, facebook, to keep alive his blog ... maybe it will seem absurd to many, but for me, and fortunately for the other components of the natural family and some of his virtual family, you can access his blog, read what he wrote in the last few years and see the messages of people (many unknown to us) all grouped together in one place makes us more serene ... a friend of mine called it a "grave virtual" sounds like a macabre thing ... but ... I read that I must tell you, I smile, I cry and smile again, makes me happy. Some people have forged a strong bond with him, different from a bond of blood as my own, but not least ... so it seems fair to give the possibility to anyone who is as crazy as me or anyone who wants to be able to write freely on his blog, just send an email to manuelaserpilli . mail@blogger.com as putting your name and location in the text that you want to post and will be released directly into the blog (any images should be placed as attachments). A hug to all and many thanks, Manuela

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by primaveraestate (amicoweb)

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by Brinetta (friend of Francesca Web) from


A person who is hard to forget ....
will remain in our hearts ...

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In this particularly difficult period

also added this pain for the loss of our beloved Benito ...
backbone of our dear Com ..
want to remember him with his characteristic good humor and the great
want to smile always ...
Condolences from the heart to all his wonderful family

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by Butterfly (Amico_Web_di_Francesca)


A reminder to our dear Here

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From Senninha From Paola

The Dear Quinef has ascended to heaven and we salute the friends of the Web and waved with a smile on the face ... just like he wanted!

http://ilmondodisenninha.blogspot.com/

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Dear all friends of the blog, are
Paola, the daughter of Quinef and I'm here, after trying to absorb the immense sorrow for dad (do not know when I'll ever do that) to say thanks for all the words you left for him. You have accompanied at all times, more or less difficult, encouraging and smiling with him, ironically, though sometimes a bit 'sad, faced surgery and then all that came later. With you I spent most of his time here and there on the Internet looking for jokes or to propose ideas to share. Since he had the operation I have tried in every way, to inspire you to resume contact with you and with the valuable help of my wonderful nephew and technological Manuela, who accompanied him to the last second, he was always aware of your messages. Unfortunately, it was weakened, and could not concentrate too well, apart from combinations of temporary, do not go over with you because the computer tired.
I'd like to keep alive his blog, so you are always with us, but I have little confidence in my abilities to the computer and, unfortunately, the life of every day, between work and children, does not help me as I would like to dwell on things , as did my father, always attentive and curious for everything, always able to remember an anniversary (it was he who warned us all home: "Remember to do the best wishes ..."), sensitive and ready to speak a word of comfort, to dry a tear and make you smile.
With my message, as well as say thank you for the company that you have done all these years, I wanted to confirm what my dad was special and wonderful relationship between us. I am 53 years old, it is true ... but I still called the "cuddle", was worried about me that I take the scooter, waiting for my ringtone of the good morning every morning and at night we'd always good night. Just wondering one thing (of course, if there was no need to move, because it was a great lazy) that is activated: by phone, or computer, you always gave your answer. In the week puzzle was unbeatable favevamo to race in recent times .. I wanted to stimulate renewed interest and focus. He emphasized the phrase "for the solver more than able" to show me, proudly, that he had (at my face that I was not successful) concluded that particular "word crusade." We told you everything, even trivial things, .. we laughed for small things .. tease me for my carelessness .. call me "petite tete de chou", a nice way of saying "head of cabbage .." He was always cheerful, he liked to sing songs of the past .. He never raised his voice and, as a child, when I was doing something wrong, I remember that I approached him and asked him: "Are you angry? Let's make peace? "His answer was a kiss and" I have never in war. " He was apprehensive, and if my sister or I had a fever, from small, she would close, we touched his forehead and said that with the warmth of his hand, it's over .. If I said: "Ugh, I have to do this or that .." I replied: "I have to or want to? Remember you can always choose not to do so .. evaluate the pros and cons .. then you decide. " Led me to reflect on things, so talking with us girls when we were little, his life, religion, philosophy, psychology ... and I must say that then if I chose psychology, there is some 'of his paw ..
He said: "Remember: the will can move a mountain." He did not have it done, but ... even if we tried, trying, in recent times, to eat all that offers, to do gymnastics, every time we said it to him, to use the muscle activity ..
'm still happy to have so many things written about him that enable me even more to stop the memories ... poems, short stories, wrote that over the years because he always loved to throw down his thoughts, dreaming, paraphrasing, .. Think of that as a boy in love with mother, he had built, during the war, in a concentration camp, a small booklet made with bread crumbs and written in ink in china .. He had dedicated a poem: "The lively Teresa", where, in parody, talked about their love story, and projected over time, you could see, old man, with her and "six Piccirilli" ... And in fact, funny thing, has had his six grandchildren (my three sons and three of my sister) .. To them, years ago, has written a book: "The stories of his grandfather," which tells a little 'all his life and that of his parents and grandparents ... the history of the family, funny things when he was little less funny things about the war .. all written in simple terms, for explaining to the grandchildren as long as he lived, giving rise to the family .. Ends: "Because the memory does not die" ... I believe we will never die, for me, for my sister and our husbands, our children, for my mother, but also for you, for those who knew him directly and who only via computer ... I felt united with us. I embrace you very much for the affection and warmth that "the" and "us" ... you have always shown
Paola

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my way, I wanted to and I love you

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Again the usual ...

Also the usual, "but from what I do not write" but from what I do. " I do not know 'not because I ask myself the question, does not read so much shit about anyone, even if I put on my nice faccialibro "update http://pocolucido.blogspot.com", but why blame or be blamed, so are the things we do because we like to do ... like 8 with kites all day. In any case, if I talk to my conscience, I might as well do it right away and so clear. Let us first understand why people I see around me I feel "great", task and goals .... Because I'm always late and always distracted, almost certain situations I do not belong, I would maybe just the "cool head" and then head to smartellarsi of the questions that have no answers, who makes us' do? Yeah, but continue in the lightness of it, I do not care. But I've got no more 'age, this is the bets to win. Maybe because I'm happy, in the midst of change in my life: no worsening changes, indeed, well beyond the best! To begin with I'm a little man who lives with his woman, we are in our apartment, baby, with the minimum necessary to live without luxury and entirely practical, like any young couple who must deal with the pockets of the court and always full of holes. I finally reached the bliss of being totally free, apart from some commitments, but who cares. Until a year ago if I had preferred to go to breakfast alone in bars, now get up to prepare it is a pleasure, a kind of initiation rite of the day, at moments of particular stoned, yes, those mornings when you feel of waking up with an anvil, I feel closer to the tea ceremony ... If you've never tried you can not understand. Bella this phrase in its effectiveness and reality: life is just the sum of experiences. One thing I realized that prove to be direct, decisive and phrases placed at the right time guarantees you the beauty and the feeling of being at this place as a blue suit wearer: for every right occasion. This I learned to work, never show fear, but a respite, but it takes smiles, professionalism, dressing well, sympathy, pragmatism and a 'hundred other things that you can come if you do not work at least 10 years ... But how do you grow these? Where to search? Reading piles and piles and piles of paperwork that seem to never end, or rather do not seem to, no, just the figures do nails with people, that's all. On the other hand are at a stone's throw away from home and this allows me to live in a simple search of balance, it is nice to have the feeling of creating your days as you like. But most 'everything and' nice to share life with who you like. Then the festival of the first times, and the first few times they do not like to not get curious and do not be greedy for novelty?
The problem is getting out. Not that c'abbia want, and only changed his life. It is known 'that will is power, but power does not correspond with the will, were often situations that do not match. In any case, the solution is always the same: my fault. Ha ha. Ha ha. I also read a little ... all this makes you dry and speechless. Missing glyph, missing air.
a few days' friend is getting married. Here everyone can 'comment in his own way, it seems to me only the completion of a choice. What you have in your heart does not change, what you feel you do not need that office, sanctified, advertised: either you have it in or do not have it. The rest are details that remain as memories for a lifetime. In any case it is necessary to respect, yeah.
I spend a little 'less time for me, but I willingly concede to those who are with me. Having to share the happiness is a wonderful thing, you satisfy, because we know that what you do for others you do it just to feel good yourself. The human being is selfish, but he knows very well hidden, so well that if you do not realize et'illude blissfully. It is not cruelty, it's true!
Okay, so it was a return to lucidity ... but still not good in that dream I call creation. Too many things that will snatch from outside, too many things that will snatch from loneliness, yes, that means that we bring footprint.

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The weight of things

I choke, I'm drowning. Salt in a whisper one word: help . A word that is a flower with five petals and five soldiers. She goes up and I go. In two, you and I, we lift a poorly balanced. If now I look around and all stop. Quell ' not help asking help. He does not know to ask and, perhaps, can not receive. He says there is nothing to be done. We must suffocate by drowning. If at the end there will be even a sailing ship with the treasure, I will ask why the weight of things. Things that suffocate, drown things.

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Love stories

In most of the books I read, movies I've seen (if not sleep) I always happen to find a love story. Yeah, well, good news but you'll think you've ever wondered why?
The love story in any situation goes stealth, maybe now we take it almost for granted part of the staging, part of the mind of almost all the authors / writers, there may be moments of fervent adrenaline, high pathos, heart-rending scenes or absolute nothingness that almost leads to boredom, but the romance is there around the corner stealthy, silent and light as a cat that rubs on the corners, which makes us feel the smooth tail between his legs while courting pimp.
Yet even when it seems has nothing to do, is to reveal the inevitable, because love is the strongest feeling there is. Love is against death, love intoxicates us, drug us and gives us strength unknown to us. When there is love, everything has a color more 'intense, even though the moments of suffering for love. I never try to put here some "flowers in your guns" or "make love under the stars by Rebel Girl," just reciting love as a feeling that can not ' only be idealized by saying that "true love does not exist", that think that only perfect love will become routine.
Love is a feeling too precious, because without this there would be no human relationship, we would not be what we are, we will not live our days in search of something. Love can 'be all that we believe that we like a habit, a passion, an interest, anything that captures our attention and manages to stay in the memory to remember for a long time'. Love permeates our days on many facets that we are not only used to call it ', by its nature can not' be reduced to only love, by its nature has to look what is not, shall be capable of deluding ourselves at all times and in all its forms would not be able to live it.
E 'its force that pulls everything around becomes selfishness, envy, hate, jealousy, lack of patience, misunderstanding, agitation, lack of endurance, listlessness, and all those feelings that stand out when we do not understand love. Love is the greatest weakness of human beings, because it is the basis of being human. Search
love is to search the empty drawers "that things are sure you have put here, just that we are always busy looking for him without pausing to see that we have it in your pocket.
Love is to accept and follow it as it is if it makes you feel better.

L.