After introducing us to Aunt Cosima and the taste of her milk-flour pastries, Efrem opens his door again—this time to share a celebration close to his heart. We're invited to a truly special occasion that lives in his memory: his parents Margherita and Gianni's fiftieth wedding anniversary.
Last year my parents celebrated fifty years of marriage. In our family we don't usually throw big parties. But this time even my father—who can't stand them—started asking: what are we going to do now that the anniversary is coming? Mom was surprised. She knows Dad's mind well.
We decided to gather our closest relatives: my nieces Micol and Zoe, aunts, cousins. We would have Mass in the chapel at our country house. As the oldest son, I felt it was important to write down some memories from when we were small and to thank Mom and Dad for bringing us into the world and raising us. When the day came, my brother Francesco went to the florist and bought a beautiful bouquet. We drove out to the countryside at the appointed time. One by one they arrived: the aunts and cousins, then Father Sergio to celebrate the Mass. I served as altar boy as always. Manuela, my sister, read the first reading. Aunt Ezia, Dad's sister, read the second. Father Sergio gave a beautiful homily. At the end of Mass, my father thanked everyone and shared some memories of the fifty years that had passed. As people were leaving the chapel, it was my turn. I gathered my courage and started to read what I had prepared:
"Dear Mom and Dad,
We wish you happiness and joy on the anniversary of your marriage.
You have met the Lord every day of your lives and you brought us children into the world.
Mom, you are wonderful, a marvel, a queen of marvels.
You became our parents—kind and good—thanks to our grandparents and our aunts too (like second mothers).
Dad, you are kind and good. Thank you for the education you gave us.
How kind and good you both are! With those beautiful hands you held us from birth and had us baptized.
So many birthdays together with cousins and friends!
Mom, you were always tender even when you were in pain.
How many walks we took with you, how much trouble we gave you! We were rascals: I was always with Aunt Ida and you were feeling down. Thank you for teaching us to speak.
We went to the countryside with you; cousins, uncles, and aunts were there.
You bought me cakes with cream. How many trips abroad we took with our brothers, thanks to you!
Thank you for sending me to Grandmother Rosa, who spoiled me."Efrem
P.S. Nobody expected I would have the courage to do this. Somehow I managed to read my thoughts all the way through, but then I broke down crying. I looked around. Everyone was moved to tears—even Father Sergio, the little cousins, all of them. The whole "party" turned into a "flood" of tears. Fortunately, my parents had reserved a table for all of us at the Rustichello restaurant. So the emotion ended in celebration.