My friend Carmelo
A great guy with amazing humor it is long ago but sometimes he is in my head. I remember his accent and he is more often in my mind from the day my son died in september last year. Sometimes i think they are together but no one knows if this is true.
The picture is a poster on the wall at the dive floor in the station i worked 34 years. In December 2003 it happened. I hope his family don't mind me telling you this sad story, if so i remove it. I only tell here how he was, to remember him, and not the way it happened. It made a big impression on me, and as i have the feeling when i was on that moment with him he would be with us today. He was italian and a real one i can tell you, he was more closer to his roots as the place he lived with his wife, i mean Netherland. At the age of 35 in the prime of his life he took his life. It was for a reason only italian guys would do in my opinion. I miss him. He is burried in his home town in italy.
We laughed so many times together as he misunderstood the dutch language sometimes. I try to give you an example. As everyone helps each other in the station, a colleague asked him to put some wooden bars in the ground, meaning the first paint as he was a painter on his day off. Carmelo always liked to help and asked: okay how deep they have to go? As he thought he had to start digging holes for them. Loved his cooking ,he made the best tiramisu ever! As i write the story and think of him as he was, he was quiet similar as Paul my son, i mean he had his moments to. On his funeral i was the only one who could speak something for his family and friends. I feld this was needed in the sadness we had. This is one of two stories of missing colleagues. Carmelo was close, as i worked with him some years, in the same station as long as he lived. Friend we never forget you. R.I.P.