A courageous issue!
I embrace you all with deep affection, and my heart is heavy for Nicole's passing.
Your latest issue is truly courageous. To speak only of grave illnesses among the elderly is to show openness, to face these great dramas without denial or evasion. But we can live and share in them only if we are convinced that we are not alone, that Christ stands near "them" and near us, and that we must not "fear" but hold each other's hands and love one another—because that is the essential medicine for living. And then, if we trust, someone gives us strength, tenacity, confidence each day.
It is easy to write this, especially on a beautiful sunny morning looking out over a green hillside. But to live this faith in God's loving providence—I find I can hardly do it. I remain rigid and too ambitious with my son (almost thirty now). I want Andrea to excel at something that would somehow compensate for my wounded pride as a mother still too wrapped up in herself. This last confession proves it!
Thank you again for the good you spread, and a warm embrace to all.
Silvana Zamperoni
I thank you for what you do
Reading "our" little magazine, I always feel moved and enriched, and called to examine my own behavior—in thought and in action. Reassured and comforted, too.
Above all, I am convinced that Ombre e Luci is a deeply important tool for continuing to assert the worth of every PERSON—conceived as a creature of God, for those of us who claim faith—and therefore a resource for a path lived ever more in the light of the Beatitudes, for each of us and a constant reminder of sharing and reciprocity. But equally, for those who do not believe, a PERSON rich in those values—simplicity, transparency, and openness—which are examples for us all.
In the latest issue, the farewell to Nicole, so dear and precious! Like so many others from the earliest days of Faith and Light, I think of her and them, happy there together, accompanying us with love.
And I found everything you published about Alzheimer's deeply interesting. It is a problem that many of us here have lived through or are living through now with a parent or family member. The different experiences seem to me to ease those doubts and heartaches that arise when you love a person and watch them transform like that, not knowing which way to turn.
Lucetta Battilani (Parma)
I accept the invitation...
...to "discuss" Stefano Artero's proposal in his letter in the latest issue of Ombre e Luci. What do you do when you find yourself in a Faith and Light group that ages year after year, with no new members or fresh blood, and seems to wither? Stefano proposes dividing the community into "small groups" that would join other, more vital communities. I would not agree. It is a solution based on many separations and an ending that causes pain and confusion. Why not instead face the problem together and ask what steps to take, what to invent, how to move forward to bring life and color back to what seems spent? I would also like to make another proposal for discussion. When a community feels secure enough in the values that sustain it and has some enthusiasm, why not try to open itself, to enter into relationship with the parish community that hosts it? It is far from easy, but perhaps it is worth giving it thought.
Lucia B.
Witnesses to fidelity
I have just lived a beautiful experience in Pontelambro (Erba), around the death of Davide Schiatti, son of Mario, cofounder of Faith and Light with Fr. Dario Madaschi, who was with us in Geneva in 1983!
For five years, Davide hardly left his room and allowed only his father to care for him.
He died of internal bleeding in his bed. His parents are wonderful—truly beautiful witnesses to fidelity and the grace of the sacrament of marriage!
The funeral was "profound" and an hour of peace. Fr. Marco Bove found the right words. The presence of so many faithful friends touched my heart.
There you could truly feel the heart of Faith and Light. They care for me and make me feel like their brother. I can speak with them openly, and they accept even proposals for change with goodwill. The long journey and many kilometers I travel for them cost me no effort. Now I go to celebrate the evening Mass in a church far too empty. But my heart as a friend is connected with you, with Mary and Jesus, and so it grows warm even in the growing indifference of the baptized around us. A very strong embrace!
Fr. Klaus Sarbach
Fr. Klaus sends us two texts read at Davide's funeral
Dream—Hope—Love
When a person realizes he can barely dream anymore, he looks for something new to give his life meaning.
He finds it in hope.
Hope is not a dream, but it can help you go on.
When you begin to understand that you are losing even that, then it becomes hard to believe in anything.
You turn angry at everyone and everything, you fall apart, you shut yourself inside, thinking only in negatives.
So what do you do?
You cry.
Crying helps you understand you are no longer alone in your uphill struggle.
Friendship lets you find the love that matters far more than dreams or hope.
Mario Schiatti—Davide's father
But who cares for Mario?
A man who has lived for his son for years and no longer sleeps, or sleeps little, because when he does sleep he has nightmares. If he doesn't sleep, he cannot even dream. So he wakes at night to think what is best for Davide: how to improve therapies, the timing of treatments, nutrition, the way to relate to him. And so he has invented a new way of being a father, an educator, a physical therapist, a nurse, and so much more. But what a burden! And who cares for Mario?
Dr. Ambrogio Rigamonti, friend and physician