Maybe she believed it too, that tomorrow would be better. As Vasco says, who has always been his legend. The one who "Living is smiling at the troubles as you have never done and then thinking that tomorrow will always be better". That Blasco who had wanted her at all costs at his concert at the Cagliari Fair.
It's June 18, 2019, Laura Floris, born in 1965, originally from Desulo, is there, one step away from the myth. Already immobilized by multiple sclerosis, which 33 years after her diagnosis has robbed her of the use of every muscle and left her with little else than an extraordinary will to live. Now she has passed away, at the age of 59.
«Laura was a marvel. She was the most beautiful, the most smiling. She had quicksilver on her", Giovanna Floris, the aunt who was a sort of second mother, barely holds back her tears.
A now retired radiologist and sonographer, it was she who noticed that something was wrong with her then eighteen-year-old granddaughter. «First he had vision problems, then he started wearing closed shoes even in the summer. I asked her why, Laura told me that she tripped on stairs and stones. I scheduled a neurological examination in Nuoro, it turned out to be suspected MS."
It was 1986, when little was said about sclerosis and even less was known. Especially in Sardinia. The via crucis begins in the hospitals, the exams, the hope, the fear and the verdict that wipes out your life and dreams and forces you into a body that little by little becomes a cage.
«Two years later, in Rome they gave us confirmation of the diagnosis». It's the beginning of a nightmare, with the disease running fast and day by day robbing Laura of the use of every muscle. But she continues to smile, even when she finds herself in Israel with her aunt, hoping for an experimental cure which, however, does not change her destiny. He is strong and wants to live. It was printed in our eyes, the ones that closed forever yesterday, around 9pm.
No, Lauretta never gave up, who that day under the stage was the guest of honor and she sang all of Vasco's songs, one by one, moving her lips, with a faint voice that seemed like the cry of those who fight and choose to see the beauty in life; even if life hasn't been kind. She just fell asleep, at 59 years old and forty years old with illness.
"I want to find meaning in this life, even if this life doesn't have any meaning." Who knows how many times she must have asked herself this, nailed to that bed overlooking the sea in the house in Barracca Manna where she lived with her family. And who knows if she had found that meaning in her suddenly overturned existence. She will certainly return to Desulo, where she will be buried, on Saturday, because that is what she had decided.