We have given voice to their experiences and reflections in the past. We return to some of them now to honor the essential role siblings play within the family.
My sister is a profound reference point for me. She has taught me, by example, that life's true value lies in small things and daily victories—and above all, that the more we distance ourselves from difference, the more it frightens us. I hope to hold these lessons always and to pass them on with love to my daughters.
Francesca
I feel their stares on me. Those eyes—wary, curious, afraid. Eyes searching, trying to understand, while I stand there with my brother, trying to protect him. Sometimes people make fun of him. That's allowed only from those who love him. From strangers? No. My gaze becomes fierce.
Stefania
I know that my brother, one of the most important people in my life, has difficulties that will always keep him from managing completely on his own. He will always need someone to help and guide him. I'm happy to be that person, because we are siblings for life.
Imma
When we're alone at home—those rare evenings when our parents go out—we have such fun. Something clicks. We fall into an equal, satisfying rhythm, just the two of us. With the whole family here, he becomes impossible. That's why I'd rather spend ten days alone with him than five with everyone together. When I was young, I was ashamed to bring friends home when he was there. Now what bothers me most is my parents letting him dominate the room. Alone with me and my friends, he knows his place. He speaks seriously and doesn't hijack the evening with repetitive talk. I'm convinced that joy often hides within suffering, and I'm grateful my brother gave me the eyes to find it.
Daniele
How hard it is to win happiness—or even just a little peace of mind. That thirst for spiritual calm that wells up in me and quiets only when I paint or read or think of London […]. I imagine my future will be better than my past, better than now.
Maybe the answer is not to think about it. My main flaw is overthinking. Perhaps it's because of the responsibility I've carried since childhood of being an only child. My parents rely on me, on my success. It would repay them for the pain my sister caused them. […] I've always examined what I live through. Every action I take is the result of careful weighing. I don't think I've ever truly let myself have fun. I've never done anything reckless, even innocent things. I think I've always been too adult—without virtue, and full of flaws.
T.M.
I was seven when I sensed my parents' distress—though they said very little about it. […] I feel my parents, too worried about my sister, were never really present. We never had happy moments together.
Silvia
I grew up struggling to find meaning in difference, living with a sense of injustice that haunted me for years. But then at some point you accept it. That's just how it is. And as you get older you realize that so few things in life truly matter—and that brother who seemed so intrusive, so inconvenient, becomes your own strength. Your best part. You feel love for him beyond any misunderstanding. You feel you owe him everything. You must be there. You must take care of him, protect him. And as you do, he opens a whole world of love to you—becomes the gateway to the small things in life that make God's existence real. […] And it happens that while you're thinking about how your own life will unfold, how you'll build your own family, you feel fear growing inside you. Fear of living it—as if you were "stealing" something you're not allowed to have. That wasn't exactly how I felt, but I always thought my place had to be beside my mother, beside my brother. Without me it would have been too hard. And I kept postponing the moment of leaving for as long as I could.
Giorgia