I had called before arriving at the station. It was raining a lot in Bologna and I expected that the weather situation in Ancona would also be the same. I called my father to ask for a ride home. My mother had replied. “Don't worry” - he said - “As soon as he comes back, I'll tell him, you keep your cell phone close at hand” At the Senigallia station, I decided to call my father for confirmation. My mother will have remembered, I thought, but better make sure. Also because she felt like she was living in a disaster movie. The rain came down in buckets. It seemed that a hurricane, the first and only hurricane in Italy, had taken over the Adriatic coast. No answer on the phone, neither to my father's cell phone, nor to the home phone. I sighed, tried again. I can't stand anyone who doesn't answer my cell phone. I have a vice, that of always keeping it in my pocket, ready to answer. Those who do not like me make me uncomfortable. I tried again, then, but without success. I saw (albeit with difficulty, given the rain) Ancona, I would arrive shortly. I hope my father is there, I thought.
Once I got off the train, on the platform, I began to look for the figure of my father with my eyes. No, I didn't see him.
But at a certain point, I saw my mother at the beginning of the platform waiting for me. Strange, I thought. My mother hasn't driven in years. I immediately thought that something had happened to my father. I ran to meet her and asked her “What are you doing here? Pope?" - He smiled at me and his smile was wonderful, I will never forget it and said "Dad is at home he had something to do with the computer, You know what he is like!" - He smiled again and showed me the way to the car , outside the station. The rain, the wind, had miraculously gone away, a pale and uncertain sun was now illuminating the air. Mom drove the Ford KA in a simple and calm way, as if she had never stopped doing it. Her attitude was never seen before, she was happy, serene and that half hour drive together made us tell more things than in forty years. I too was serene and at a certain point I had a strong desire: "I hope this car trip lasts as long as possible" We told each other a lot, from when I was little to today. I finally understood things about my mother that I had not been able to do in many years. The car arrived under my house. My mother got out of the car, hugged me, kissed me, got into the car and drove away. I stayed on the sidewalk under the house for about 3 minutes trying to understand what had happened, why so much difference with before? Mum in the past seemed to have some difficulty showing her feelings. Not that day. I recovered. I went into the door, called the elevator. My cell phone rings. He was my brother. He was crying. My mom had died in a car accident that happened 5 hours earlier. I cried too. When she was with me mom she was already dead. And she had come to say hello.