She was the oldest daughter in a house with 8 children. When she was 9, she would climb a box to make her siblings a meal. She used to help her mom at home and her dad at the grocery store. The little girl used to cry a lot whenever one of her brothers stole her candies. They used to do that more for the fun of watching her crying than for the candy itself. She turned into a teenager, but the tears would then be shed because her sisters would steal her only fancy dress or pair of shoes to go to a ball leaving her at home. She became a teacher – in that time it was something to be proud of – and helped her parents pay for her sibling’s education. She also helped her sisters with their weddings and only got married after that. She cried – tears of happiness – at her wedding, when she got married to a painter (not one that painted walls but an artist – in that time it was something not to be proud of). She kept crying because she had to move in with her parents-in-law. She cried tears of satisfaction when she had a daughter. She would not have been so satisfied if she knew what was going to happen: when her husband saw the price of raising a child, he decided to give up his career as an artist and became a print designer. He started drinking a little every day “to relax”. She hated the alcohol smell, the chewed words and the joy of her drunk husband. But she would swallow the anger and cry: A saint! One must be a saint to put up with an alcoholic. A saint: who sacrifices herself for her family and children. Children? Yes! They had more two kids – received by tears of joy, of course. So she put up with the drinking problems; gave up parties and any kind of social activity; offered love and got pee and puke to clean. “I must sacrifice!” Unfortunately, she thought that way! She couldn’t see that when she did so, she was not respecting herself neither her children. She was exposing them to a sick, disrespectful and degrading relationship. Birthday parties, celebrations, Christmas or even a regular night at home were ruined by arguments and always ended up with her bursting tears. Her husband got very sick because of the drinking problem. She almost went mad and cried like she never had cried before. She stopped working and taking care of her children to take care of him. When he died, she cried and cried and cried. Widow, elderly, lonely, she cries because she misses him. She cries because crying is a call for her.
Fotógrafo/Photographer: Stefano Paterna (direitos reservados/copyrighted)