Summer turned to autumn. Late one evening in October, I received a telephone call from Ravenna, from Maria, the wife of my friend Michele. She was sobbing and I heard her uttering huskily into the telephone:
Michele is dead. He didn't wake up this morning. The endless pain has come to an end. He Just couldn't fight anymore. He'd given up all hope in the fight against his cancer. Renato, Michele is dead, but I just cannot believe it. I see his paintings all around me, so alive, and it is as though he were still here. His paintings live on, a testimony to his life - they give me support.
She hung up.
Michele was my best friend. We understood each other with no need for words. I was stunned, and I felt a great emptiness within me. I felt absolutely alone - whom could I talk to? Who would understand me? No one!
I poured myself a glass of red wine and looked up at the wall above me, at the painting which Michele gave me as a farewell present when I left for Sarajevo. Thinking back on many evenings shared in his atelier and at our special Cafe Marly in the Louvre, in Paris, where we visited so many exhibitions over the years, I suddenly felt tears burning my eyes. I had a desperate need to leave my house -to run away from the loneliness - and yet, I had no place to run to, no one to be with. Even my cat, IFOR, a gift of military friends, was out for the evening.
In my desperation, I grabbed the phone and called Katherine, who knew Michele through my stories. Thank goodness she was still in her office and, on hearing my story, she said quietly: "Just let me close up the office - I'll be over in half an hour, and you won't be alone." She arrived on time; we lit a number of candles and prayed for Michele. Katherine understood my pain, having lost her beloved father some years ago- She said that she was there for me, and put her arms around me as I cried.
The next morning I woke up, covered in a blanket, in the same chair in which I sat with Katherine the night before. I presumed that I had fallen asleep and she had taken a blanket and made me comfortable before she left.