Arrivals and DeparturesPhoto by Alex Heuvink on UnsplashI'm in bed, but sleep won't come.

[mynotes@snac.my-notes.dragas.net]

Arrivals and Departures

Photo by Alex Heuvink on Unsplash

I'm in bed, but sleep won't come. And in these moments, the mind wanders - often in the wrong directions.

When I was born, it was a joy. Much wanted, I came into the world a bit late, on a cold December morning. The hospital was up on a hill but that hadn't discouraged my loved ones. I didn't seem very eager to come out, apparently, but everyone had rushed to wait for me. Outside the delivery room were my grandparents, without doubt the most impatient. One of my grandfathers walked back and forth along the corridor, restless, while the other (who had already lived through this experience with my cousin) tried to calm and reassure him. It wasn't easy for my mother. A somewhat complicated delivery, but everything turned out well.

When I finally started breathing, many smiled. I had so much hair - red! - and it was impossible to comb it down. The midwife, bringing me out, apologized for not managing to flatten my hair. Poor woman, it wasn't her fault: it's still impossible to flatten it today, even though it's a fraction of what it was back then.

Sometimes I think about the day I'll die. If I'm lucky, I'll be very old. If I'm very lucky, I won't realize it. If she's lucky, my wife won't have to live through this experience. And I think that, probably, I'll die alone. On one hand this reassures me: I've never liked to inconvenience others or to be a burden to them, and I don't want that to happen when I take my leave from life. Yet, from another point of view, it casts a veil of sadness over me. Perhaps I'll be in a sterile hospital room, alone or surrounded by strangers, and when my heart stops I'll be just another old man who passed away, handled with the appropriate professional detachment by staff who see these situations every day.

When I arrived, there was joy, anticipation. I was surrounded by loved ones. When I leave, if I'm lucky, there will be silence, indifference, and solitude.

I close my eyes again, in the overwhelming silence of the night.
Tomorrow morning, thankfully, there will still be familiar people, lights and sounds.
My coffee. My breakfast. My life, still waiting to be lived.

https://my-notes.dragas.net/2026/02/08/arrivals-and-departures/

#Life #MyNotes #Reflections

[angel@triptico.com]

What a beautiful piece. Thanks.

[stefano@mastodon.bsd.cafe]

@angel thank you!