WHEN JOY AND PAIN SHAKE HANDS

North Of Italy, 10:30 PM

It was a tiring day, yet not without its satisfactions.

First of all, today was the first day when the signs of the approaching spring became truly noticeable, even though this morning the cars were covered in frost ❄️.
The afternoon sun ☀️ is starting to feel warmer, so much so that you need cool air in the car. The birds are more cheerful 🎶 early in the morning, and the daisies 🌼 pop up in the grass like curious little white rabbits 🐇.
It’s peculiar how my eyes rejoice in all of this, and yet a strange sadness quietly pulls up a chair and sits in a corner, watching me in silence.

It is the part of me that feels in mourning because she loves autumn, fog, rain, and snow. The one who would spend beautiful days in the quiet of a cemetery just to find some silence — the kind she can only find at night or in the early morning. The one who fears this will be yet another bright season spent alone, or not quite in the company she wishes for.
I let her sit there and observe me. I don’t silence her, nor do I suppress her, because she is not telling lies. I allow her to exist — but I do not hand her the stage.

Lately at work I have been so busy that I barely even have time to go to the bathroom 😓, and I fear it will be like this for a long, long time.
I am very grateful to work part-time; otherwise, I would probably burn out.
The only thing to do is take it one day at a time — actually, one minute at a time — so it feels more manageable.

Shortly after getting out of bed, I decided to write to L. on Slowly after five months, carefully omitting certain details I considered unnecessary.
From the way she replied on WhatsApp, she seemed happy to finally receive a full letter from me, beyond the usual greetings for Sabbats and holidays.
If she answers with her usual monologues, I won’t take it personally. That is simply her way of existing and communicating. At least she doesn’t throw constant jabs or passive-aggressive remarks at every word I say — which is a huge step forward compared to other friendships I’ve had.

This afternoon my orthodontist complimented me on how well I’m handling Invisalign.
He said that in meticulous people, results show sooner.
I started the treatment only four months ago, but you can already notice some changes.
He said he can’t wait to see even more results! ☺️
I gather these small satisfactions like flowers; they are a gentle push to keep going.

But the sweetest and most heartbreaking part of the day is that I learned from online news that the new heart that could not be transplanted into little Domenico was given to another child on the waiting list — the one who needed it most.
For Domenico, sadly, nothing more can be done except palliative care.
His family is preparing to say goodbye (for now). He was only two years old.
The Lord is about to hold him tightly in His Kingdom.
Sometimes He answers prayers in ways we would never choose.

I will not stop praying for this devastated family — now more than ever.
It is curious how joy and pain can coexist in certain circumstances.
It is as if they shake hands 🤝🏻.

Now the tiredness is beginning to set in, and I am glad this intense day is coming to an end.
I just hope I won’t have overly vivid dreams tonight.

Goodnight 🌙