“What color is courage?” The story of Simonetta, suffering from leukemia
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Red like blood, green like hope, blue like the color of the eyes of one’s only great love. But if the disease, leukemia, is white, what color is the courage of a woman in love with family, friends, life? “The theory of colors” is one of the ten semi-finalist stories of the literary prize dedicated to men and boys who are and have been alongside a woman with cancer. You can read the others on the #afiancodelcoraggio contest website. Until 8 June it is also possible to express three preferences, helping to choose the finalists. A jury will decide the winning story, which will become a short film.
The theory of colors
I have asked myself many times what the color of courage could be. Many colors represent feelings, values, faith. I have worked many years in photography, and I know colors well. I’ve always loved the basic ones: Red, Green and Blue. Red, like the color of blood. Green, like the color of hope. Blue, like the color of his eyes. These three lights in photography reproduce several million colors. And also on television, that television which has often colored our winter afternoons at home. Their sum instead produces pure light, white, Leukòs, in Greek. From this term comes Leukemia, white blood… chromatically a real absurdity. As absurd as the disease, which arrived after the initial myelodysplasia, discovered almost by chance, but which changed suddenly, with no respect for the initial classification, Very Low Risk. When Simonetta was told that day, everything suddenly seemed to turn gray and black.
Witness warmth and courage, with paddle strokes
The walls of the doctor’s office were devoid of color. All the lights had gone out, like in the darkroom when I had to print. But the beautiful blue of her eyes hadn’t faded. Quiet, incredulous, but absolutely determined. Simonetta was like that. She is proud, courageous, self-confident, much more than me. And she told me many, many times “Are you more worried than me? Stop it!” And I tried to stop, I drew her strength from her courage, from her strength, from her decision, from her absolute trust in the doctors, from her hope in the chemo that was to lead her to the transplant. And to her rebirth. The chemo didn’t work unfortunately, twice. So no transplant. But in her there is no intention of giving up, in her heart and in her spirit the irrepressible desire for a normal life, for Christmas with the family, for lights on the balcony, for colorful and cheerful lights, for a New Year spent in joy with elderly parents, for visits from many friends who impetuously color life with their presence.
Cancer, when he is the caregiver
And then the desire for a hug with our son Matteo, for a very sweet and unforgettable dance with me during the party for the baptism of the beautiful few months old granddaughter. The great faith, the immense desire to finally experience the Perfect Day, to look at the world with a new, more attentive, more enchanted sensibility, despite the danger of infections, despite the risk of bleeding, facing periodic transfusions, the continuous tests of control, confidently and tenaciously waiting for the discovery of a new cure, committing all of herself to an incredible, beautiful, almost miraculous recovery, to the sound of “If it continues like this, I’ll sign it”.
And he put a lot of signatures, for weeks. I still don’t know if there is a color that can represent courage for everyone. If there is, it is certainly a beautiful colour, perhaps the most beautiful. But for me it is only the deep and infinite blue of his eyes, of the eyes of my only great love.
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