Dear readers,
here is a true story, an experience I had a few years ago.
It was on the morning train to university that I got to know them. They were all from Matelica and, like me, they all studied at the university of Macerata. We became friends and two of them have become long-term ones. Once they heard that my surname was Pecchia, the question soon arose: "Andrew, do you by any chance have any relatives in Matelica?"
Yes, my grandparents had relatives who lived in Matelica. I didn't know any of them, though, or even how many people I was related to. Every now and again somebody asked me that question and I always answered with this information.
In those early university years I sometimes went out with them in the evening and we occasionally went to have dinner in restaurants in Matelica and surroundings. Maybe a new person joined the group or heard my surname, so they asked the usual question: "Do you have any relatives here? In Matelica there are several people with your surname." Of course, they would all get the same answer.
One day, while I was visiting my grandmother, I asked her about it. Well, finally I could provide a slightly different anwer to anybody who asked: yes, I have relatives but it's just the family who owns the driving school. My grandmother had also mentioned a distant cousin who had worked in cruise ships as a hostess and, if I remember well, had studied to become an interpreter.
One evening, while we were walking along the main street in Matelica, a girl I had just met asked the usual question. Of course, I was quite happy to answer her with the newly-acquired information. Her reaction, though, surprised me: "Who, Samuela?" I had no idea who she was talking about, so I told her I didn't know any of them. She said she knew a young girl whose family owned the driving school and they were friends. What happened next haunts me still: a few seconds after she said that, she pointed out at a group of girls who were standing further down the road on the left. She said to me: "Look, there she is. She is the one with the short hair. She must have had a haircut.". I just had a few seconds to look at her, as then we turned right into an alley to go to a restaurant. That was the one and only time I ever saw her and I'll never forget that day as long as I live.
Life went on. I graduated and then I moved to Germany. I started going to Italy every year to visit friends and family and I sometimes had the chance to meet a few of those friends from Matelica. However, the issue of having relatives there and the presence of a distant cousin did not come up much anymore. Nevertheless, I guess Samuela had found a hidden place at the back of my mind.
Fast foward a few years: I think it was around 2010 when I was able to meet an old friend of mine from Matelica and Samuela was mentioned. We met two or three times in the next few years and I remember that the last time we talked he said that he was worried about her. Apparently, she had become quite ill, though we did not go into details and I decided not to ask further.
In 2013, while I was in London for Christmas to visit my family, I took a spontaneous decision: as I informed my mother about my next trip to Italy the following March, I also told her I would go to Matelica and visit the driving school to finally get to know this mysterious cousin of mine. She turned around to look at me and I noticed the grave and blank look on her face: "Andrew, listen, I believe she's dead." At first, I did not believe it. Indeed, I said to her that she might be mistaken, that maybe it was her mother who had died. She insisted, though: "I read it in an article in an online newspaper: young girl, owner of a driving school, with our surname, who died of cancer? It must be her."
It was her. You can still find the news article online.
In 2008 and 2010 my maternal grandparents had died. I had been really very close to them since I was a little boy and they had been very important for me all my life. However, when they died, I did not feel the shock I was expecting to feel, maybe because, living in Germany I had seen them only two or three times a year and I knew that they were ill.
The moment I realized that Samuela, the distant cousin I never met, had died, I had the shock of my life. I immediately thought back to that day in Matelica when I saw her just for a few seconds. I can still see her sometimes, a vague memory that I can't even start to describe. If only I had had the chance to say hello and get to know her... well, it wouldn't have changed anything, of course. Maybe we could have kept in touch and when she would have become ill and eventually would have died, I guess I would have been able to deal with the loss in a different way. Instead, now for me it was just the loss of the chance to ever get to know her.
I still think about her sometimes and about the day I saw her.
My thoughts are with her family and friends.
Andrew
