Second chance #2 – However, when everything seems lost, life has, once in a while, a few surprises up her sleeves. When you least expect them.

It was around dinner time when Antonio, the Italian guy, whose 1500 inhabitants village you can see Albania, showed up at the door. Daniela’s return, he said with his lips smiling. I didn’t understand immediately what he said, I had to walk to him and wait for his patient explanation.

The bus that was supposed to take her home gave me a second chance. It never left. My sister still had her overly packed backpack on her back when I saw her and began to laugh. First a big smile, and then she followed my laughs. And now, I asked. She still didn’t know what to do. Her mother was calling her time and time again, hysterical.

The next morning, I arrived on time. I waited until she took all her stuff from her room with Antonio’s help, who was going to take her to the bus, to give her a hug. That hug. The one that wished her, along with my words, a good trip. In between three kisses, a lot of happiness and success with the masters program she’ll finish this year. And even more happiness.

She did better. She slashed silence when I ran out of things to say:
Make me proud. Whatever you’ll end up doing, just make me proud of you. OK?
And, as I looked to her with some sort of a puzzled face, she explained it to me, as if it was the most logical thing in the whole world:
You’re my brother; I want to be proud of you

Even though no sound came out of my mouth and I didn’t move, I actually said yes to her. She pinched my nose, smiling. And then she imitated a typing gesture, as if she was using an internet chatting program. Don’t forget to keep in touch, she ordered me with her finger up and a lot of authority.

How could I ever do such a thin, I wondered.