Barolo
Daniele had turned forty four days earlier. He read me some of the telegrams and letters of congratulation:
Dear Daniele, The time has come... your fortieth birthday!!! From the bottom of my heart, I wish you all the best, every happiness, health and good luck, and at least another forty years of interesting experiences, lots of friends and good times. You're a wonderful guy and I am very glad I know you. I have so much enjoyed the times we have spent together, our discussions, our easy familiarity. All the very best!
Daniele didn't want to tell me the name of the woman who had sent it. He continued, visibly proud:
People come into our lives and they keep us company for a while. Some stay with us forever, because they leave their mark on our hearts. Dear Daniele, stay the way you've been, you are a very special person.
He is a very special person, our Daniele!
Forty years, Daniele, and a new star has appeared in my firmament. If you were not bound to your earth and your wine, I would learn to fly, so as to reach this star. All the best on your birthday!
Daniele was touched: "At funerals people often speak of so warmly of the dear departed, but it's only those who remain that get anything out of it, not the person concerned. I'm lucky to have friends who do it while I'm still alive, don't you think? I hope that your colleagues will do the same for you, on your fortieth!"
Daniele and I have known each other for twenty years. We understand each other, even if we don't see each other. And when we do see each other, we understand each other even without words. And if we don't understand each other, we don't ask questions. We each leave the other free.
