The message of Senator Occhiuto who lost his neoten year old son who suicide is touching. He shows us a conscious father who died there that you can try to avoid, but that they don’t depend on you.
Depression and selfishness today are a pathology that distinguishes youth generation in proportions never seen in the past. There is an evil of living that floods from the physiological boundaries of adolescent suffering and which is transformed into frank pathology.
For parents it is an enormous effort to stay alongside children who in the middle of the time of vitality are inhabited by a mortal pain that pushes them to believe that their tomorrow does not worth the penalty of being faced and lived.
As we understand from the words of this father, a parent gets involved in every possible way to allow the son to believe that life is always worth being lived. And that at any moment when you seem to do it, a father remains a safe basis to count on.
There are words of love and nostalgia in Occhiuto’s message to his son. Words that surrender to the power with which pain – which seems meaningless – corrodes the desire for life of a child, until they consume and consume it.
It is difficult to find a sense. Yet there must be a sense. The reference to a will that escapes human understanding in the words of Occhiuto is evident and totally sincere. There are mysteries that life asks us to cross in which the tunnel to be traveled seems to never end. It seems that the light is not at the bottom of the tunnel and yet life asks you not to stop walking. Inside the steps of those who move inside this type of pain there is desperation and hope, darkness and light all mixed together.
This message reveals the quintessence of human pain. There is nothing worse than a father who sees his loved son die. There is nothing more desperate than knowing that everything you did to save him has not led to anything.
Yet life continues to call us with itself. Personally I find the affirmation of this father wonderful when he writes that he has “The certainty that the last two years next to him were the most beautiful, the most intense, the most true of my life. Each of his embrace filled the heart of an infinite joy. Now everything seems suspended to me, without direction. I feel emptied, as if life had lost its meaning. If it weren’t for those who still need me, I don’t know how I could go on. But this does not matter and I know I have to do it ”.
These are words that force us to stop. Because inside that death that seems to take everything away, it remains a father who seeks the meaning of his being in the world. And that sense is there. And it’s enormous. And the letter that wrote and donated to all of us is the first demonstration.
