Francesca and Her Family
Francesca left us suddenly on a desolate Sunday during lockdown, without troubling anyone, in silence, the way she always did, asking for nothing.
I met Francesca when she was in her last year of kindergarten, along with her sister Federica. The two of them took Silvia by the hand, helping her with love and care as she discovered the world: learning to walk, climbing stairs, throwing a ball for the first time, attending her first children's parties. Francesca was always there, her expression a bit gruff but her heart enormous, ready to take Silvia's hand and lead her along. This continued as she grew, and what she had shown Silvia, Francesca later gave freely to Fede e Luce and all the young people there. She was a true friend to Sabina Gammarelli, visiting often at Olga's house, where she was always welcomed with open arms. Then Francesca grew up and built a life in her own family with four children, hearts as large as hers, and with Pio, a boy with severe disabilities whom she took in as a foster child when he was small. Now Pio is fifteen and has had the good fortune to grow up in a loving family. The memory of Francesca will always remain bright, shadowed only by the sorrow of having to say goodbye to her far too soon, on a journey with no return.
Gemma, mother of Silvia, and the San Francesco community of Rome
(from our archive, an article written by Francesca at eighteen, ed.)
If You're Wondering How I Spend My Time
So I don't feel like a burden at home, unable to see my friends—it's simple. I get up in the morning, go down for two minutes with my dog Gilda, then come back up. I have breakfast, get ready, make my bed. If I have orders to process for the company, I do that. Since time was dragging, I started working for another company too—they sell household products. But I do all of that in the morning.
It's the rest of the day that won't pass. You wait for tomorrow, and then the day after. That's how an Italian woman like me faces the restart. I have to say that over these three months I've missed being understood in those moments when you can't even find words. So you search for the person who gets you right away.
But I'm aware that only my fear is speaking now. The coronavirus has left suffering across all of Europe—so many victims. What weighs on me most is that part of society thinks it's better to keep away from people with disabilities, as if that's somehow the right thing. I was already struggling to make my way before; now it seems even harder when they see me in a wheelchair, on top of masks and gloves. The virus has taken away my chance to embrace my special friends, who like me are suffering this separation from our everyday lives.
Antonietta Pantone
Quarantine as I See It
For months now we've been forced to live "isolated"—no friends, no monthly gatherings, only phone calls and, for those who can manage it, video calls. That was fine for a while. But now that it's been so long since the Fede e Luce communities have come together to celebrate with families and especially with the young people, we feel the weight of missing all those beautiful moments we share in our communities. We can focus on the small things we used to take for granted, but it's not enough to bring back the joy of being together.
Arianna Giuliano