with his friends and his enemies, with happy people, nervous
people, self-assured people, frightened, and unhappy people;
he caressed my mothers hair and mine too when I was
a child to reassure me; he hammered nails, saved wood, and
screwed in screws; he opened bottles of wine and bottles of
mineral water; he did up his skis the memorable day he skied
the thirty kilometer cross-country race, and on the 29th October,
1954, he slowly beckoned to me to come closer to him at the
moment he knew he had to say goodbye.14