When I entered the house as a new bride, I left my keys in the bowl in the hall and went straight to the sofa. Your mother ran after me, fell on top of me and, laughing, we stayed in each other’s arms for a long time, telling each other how the day had gone at work. That was an injection of pure energy, an immediate recharge of life. Even today I go in, I leave the keys, but I look at the sofa like someone looking at an oasis: so close and so far away. For many it is natural to fall into it and rest; For me that simple gesture has become a luxury.
Friendship, love and even art have something in common: they all arise from our moments of rest, disconnection and leisure. Without those moments the great works of humanity would not have developed nor would the eternal passions of Romeo and Juliet have been woven, because only when the soul breathes are true creations born. Without that respite, life would just be a succession of tasks; With it it becomes art, encounter, destiny.
And if art is born from breath, love, the greatest driving force in the world, is the fruit of a time that is known to be eternal. It does not arise from urgency, but from pause; It grows in those looks that say more than words, in the touch of hands that seek each other without an agenda, in the calm of feeling accompanied, in the simple rest of knowing that the other is there, without further delay.
Rest is not a luxury: it is the root of life. It is not lost time, but gained for the soul, because only in the pause does man discover himself and others. The true strength of a society lies not in its machines, but in its ability to offer its citizens shared time and tranquility. Without that truce there would be no art, friendship, love, humanity.
Toil and work sustain the world, but without ceasing they become a wheel that turns aimlessly. They need the spark that comes from rest and that guides them. In the same way, love thrives on constancy, but flourishes in pauses.
The truce does not include wealth or poverty: always, even in the most humble places, there have been moments to sing, to gather, to celebrate. Because it reminds us that all of us, without exception, must stop to continue living. The same goes for caring families: it’s not a question of tantrums, it’s a question of survival. Respite is not empty free time, it is what allows us to continue caring, continue working, continue living. Yet it is often treated as an optional addition, as if one could live without air.
I developed gills so I can breathe in places where it would have been impossible before. I have learned to enjoy the moments as if they were eternal and to let my imagination transport me to where I need to be in each moment.
But not all families who provide care are so lucky. Many cannot break out of the cycle of constant treatment and their lives turn grey. Most resources are designed so that the dependent person is cared for while the caregiver works, produces and survives. But there are hardly any supports that allow the assistant to rest. And so life becomes an endless wheel of work and care, without respite.
The residences are there, yes, but they are not enough, and many times they are experienced as a radical solution: all or nothing. Most caregivers would like to have their loved ones at home, close by, but to do so they need resources that allow them not only to work and earn money, but also to live. Some will think this is a problem of rich countries, where the bases are already covered. But it is the same society that claims for itself highways, parks, sports centers or spaces for its dogs. This is why we must honestly ask ourselves what value we give to every life.
I am lucky, immensely lucky, to be happy by your side. Maybe part of that happiness comes from my quirks or the special bond I’ve always had with my great love, your mother. But many families are not so lucky. And the only thing they need is for someone to lend them a hand to restore color to their days.
Ultimately, this is what the AVA Foundation is about: bringing smiles back to families. May rest, art, love flourish in them again… Because when a family breathes, life finds its light and color again.
I love you,
Dad.
