Memories

We met in Milan in 2020, a month before the pandemic broke out: those three days with the IULM students made a friendship blossom, one that grew firm in the months that followed, with constant exchanges of messages between Washington and Milan. We did not even notice that our “captivity” had opened our hearts, as if we had always known each other. The solemn promise, not yet kept, was to meet in Naples, loved by us both. When the pandemic ended, mutual setbacks of health did not allow it, but at the end of this January we had made a precise plan. I will go, Roberto, to our meeting. I love you.

I knew Roberto for only a few years, too few — I never imagined they would be so few; ours was a friendship meant to go on. What struck me at once was his boundless love for our profession, which he defended fiercely against its many declines. And then I discovered the wonderful person he was, always there for a piece of advice, from insurance to restaurants by way of the gelaterie. He was cultured without showing off, deep without boasting, kind and affectionate. I felt an instinctive liking and affection for him at once. I knew he was there: a message, and at once a reply, a joke, a voice note. I bitterly regret that we did not see each other more. I treasure the memory of our last meeting, in Milan, with Cristina, with him guiding us around NOLO, the neighbourhood he was in love with. I will also remember his last message, a day before the tragedy: he was well, he was happy! Dear Roberto, may your new journey be light.

My memory of Roberto is tied to his active presence in AIIC. I never sensed any craving for the limelight, only a real, genuine desire to do. He always gave me the impression of walking with a light step, almost so as not to disturb. Yet it was impossible not to notice his kindness, his grace and his smile, which he gave generously, as if it were a gift he had received and sincerely wished to pass on. Rare, in this world!

A gentle presence, an understanding, an ethic, an immediate closeness, tact, generosity, discretion, love, inquiry, dedication, an elegance of the soul. A rare flower, a point of reference, an authority, an open window, a lit fireplace, a music both soothing and stirring at once: you were, you are and you will be. May my affection accompany your journey, and the future journeys of your beautiful soul, Roberto.

Phenomenal Roberto. His shirts buttoned to the very top, a composed smile at a flash of thought. One day elegant as a sword, the next out on the metro in friar’s slippers. So many selves in such a slender body that you’d lose count — yet all of them selves that Roberto carried in his arms without calculation, without ever holding back. A swot, spiritual, witty, anxious, brave, and always, anyway, generous. Always Roberto. I like to think otherwise: that he has left us until further notice and is enjoying one of those moments that only pay off if you can grasp the finest grain of life, as he knew how to do. Roberto, sitting in a Manhattan café, doing an endless crossword in the New Yorker. The rest is just background noise.

Dear Roberto, we met a few years ago. Everything you said resonated perfectly within me. You offered me words of great comfort in a delicate moment, anticipating my every request. I was astonished by your ability to grasp feelings in an instant. A consummate professional — but it is not the technique we will miss, rather the soul. I will go to Naples, where you said you wanted to live one day, and take a walk for you.

I remember you, Roberto, a gentle soul.

A mentor, a colleague, a friend. What emptiness you have left, Roberto. The path we began together I will continue on my own, always with you in my heart, hoping to make you proud. In Parliament, I will switch on that microphone for the first time for you. Safe travels.

I remember you light and deep, with your beautiful smile. Who knows how much more you carried inside that I never managed to see. Safe travels.

Your smile and your light will stay with me, beyond time. I kept this calligraphy you sent me in my dark moment, with the grace that was so much you. Here it is now, for you. For us. “When conditions are sufficient, a cloud transforms into rain, snow, or hail. The cloud has never been born and it will never die. This insight of signlessness and interbeing helps us recognize that all lives continue in different forms. Nothing is created, nothing is destroyed, everything is in transformation.” — Thich Nhat Hanh Nothing is lost, everything is transformed. Safe travels, Rob.

I will always remember his smiling eyes, the smile on his lips and the gentleness of his gaze. His memory will stay alive in my heart and in my thoughts.

You used to tell me: “Enjoy life. Sooner or later it ends, so you may as well rejoice.” You too “will always stay in my heart”, your younger brother. Roberto was one of the few who always knew how to interpret my autism. Literally. A great interpreter. I was never able to write or say anything decent for him, to express my affection... just a few, simple words. But I am sure he appreciates my autistic way of remembering him: reconstructing twenty years of his life through the Gmail archive.

Roberto was not only the flawless voice able to join different worlds in the booth; he was a sensitive soul, in search of harmony and lightness. His voice will keep echoing among us, in the places he loved and in the hearts of those who will never stop loving him. Safe journey, Roberto.

From Sky TG24 · In memory of Roberto Guerrino