My name is Matteo. When I was a child, I believed my family was simple—fragile, perhaps, but filled with love and warmth.»
In my child’s eyes, my parents, Clara and Lorenzo, seemed inseparable. Papa ran a small workshop in a quiet Tuscan village called Borgo San Vito, while Mama stayed at home to take care of me. I was their only child, and in my innocence, I thought our little world would last forever.
The Collapse
But one day, everything shattered like broken glass. Papa lost his job without any warning. I didn’t really understand what that meant, but I felt the change in him: his laughter died out, and a heavy silence fell over our home. Even when he found work again, money slipped through our fingers like autumn leaves carried by the wind. At night, I heard their arguments: Mama’s shrill voice, the crash of plates, and Papa’s oppressive silence. I would hide under the covers, trembling, waiting for the storm to pass.
Then came the final blow: Papa discovered that Mama was seeing someone in secret. Our house turned into a war zone: screams, tears, and slamming doors. When Papa left, the silence he left behind was unbearable. His absence hurt so much I felt like I was suffocating. I begged Mama to take me to him, but she snapped: «He abandoned us, Matteo! That man is trash!» Her words tore my heart apart, but they couldn’t erase my longing for my father.
The Deception
One cold morning, she came to me with a smile—a rare thing back then. «Pack your things, sweetheart. We’re going to the seaside,» she told me. My heart leaped: the sea! It was a dream. While she was filling an old suitcase, I asked to take my toy trains. She cut me off: «We’ll buy new ones there, better ones.» I believed her; I trusted her completely.
Arriving at the crowded, noisy bus station, we bought tickets, and then she said: «We have time for a little detour.» We got onto an old, rattling bus that jolted at every bump. I stared at the landscape, dreaming of waves and sandcastles. Finally, we got off in front of a building in terrible condition. «Wait for me on this bench,» she told me. «I’m going to get an ice cream. Don’t move.» I nodded and sat down, watching her walk away.
The Long Night
Minutes stretched into hours. The sun went down, the wind turned freezing, and my hope slowly faded. I searched every window with my eyes, waiting for her silhouette to return with an ice cream. But she never came back. Night fell. I called her name, but only silence answered me. Finally, I curled up on that bench, tears drying on my cheeks, and fell asleep.
When I woke up, I was no longer outside: I was in a warm bed, in a strange and empty room. «Mama?» I whispered. The door opened and… it was Papa. Beside him stood a woman I didn’t know. I jumped up, confused and panicked: «Where is Mama? She went to get an ice cream and never came back!»
Papa sat near me, his face heavy with sadness. He took my hand and spoke words that still resonate in my heart: «Matteo, your mother abandoned you. She left, and she isn’t coming back.» I couldn’t believe it: a mother doesn’t just leave like that. I sobbed, claiming he was wrong—she had promised me the sea! But he held me close and repeated that same truth: she was gone.
A New Life in Positano
Years passed. Papa and I moved to Positano, a beautiful village by the sea. The woman with him, Giulia, was gentle and patient. At first, I kept my distance, but gradually she became someone I trusted; I eventually called her «Mom.» She wasn’t the one who had left: she was the one who had stayed. When my little sister Sofia was born, I finally understood what a true family could be: a safe, warm, and complete refuge.
As I grew up, Papa told me the rest: the day after I was abandoned, my mother had called him with a cold voice to give him an address before hanging up. The courts stripped her of her parental rights, and no one ever knew where she went. Life went on. We found a larger house, I excelled at school, graduated with honors, and built my career. Eventually, I bought my own apartment, with Papa and Giulia by my side every step of the way.
The Return
One stormy evening, coming home from work, I saw someone sitting on a bench near my place. My heart froze. She looked up and said: «Matteo.» Then, in a low voice: «I am your mother.» She had aged, she looked like a stranger, and suddenly all the memories came rushing back.
I called Papa and Giulia. They arrived quickly, bringing me back to earth. Papa looked at me and said: «It’s up to you, my son. Only you can give her a place in your life.»
I looked at her: this stranger from the past. I felt no warmth, no bond—just a void where love should have been. The doorbell rang. She entered behind Papa, but I could not stay silent.
«You are not my mother,» I said. «I have a mother and a father: those who raised me, who were there when you left. I don’t know you, and I don’t want your excuses. Get out, or I’ll call the police.» She cried, but I remained unshakable. She left, fading into the rain-soaked night.
I turned to Papa and Giulia, hugged them tight, and whispered through my tears: «I love you. Thank you for everything.» They were my true family—my support in the middle of the ruins. As for her? She is nothing more than a shadow in a chapter I closed long ago.
