Today in Italy, May 3 2020 should be the last lockdown day, unless a steep rise of the height of epidemic peak in the future.
My confinement started on 10 March, as you read, when I came back from Corsica. Here, in Milan, who was able to, was already in lockdown.
That morning I called my father to know how he was doing.
He said: Here it’s Silvio Pellico, from “Le mie prigioni” all’s well.
He has been answering me in this way all days, for these two months, not always with the same joking tone of the beginning.
We have been able to stay home, we have been under house arrest.
I have read again the Universal Declaration of Human Rights of 1948. After world war II, many deaths between civilians, tragedies of unspeakable horror, men who wrote it tried to say what is really important and to be protected for a Human Life.
Now, don’t think of whom are worse than us, sadly we would be devasted.
I’m just thinking of all those things we usually do in complete freedom, taking it for granted. We are so lucky to be able to choose where and how to live. OK, we have already had the privilege to be born where a girl is taught to read….
A little doubt sets in nevertheless. How many times do I feel locked away? How many times did I feel imprisoned in a job, in a life I didn’t want? How many times have I felt surviving and not really living?