01/18/2015 10:30am

It is a sad occasion that brought me in Italy this week : the funerals of my friend Gaia Molinari,
brutally murdered in Brazil the day of Christmas.

We arrive in Piacenza. We are on a hurry, we slept few hours, and we go to the wrong church.
Stephanie is afraid that we miss the first ceremony in the funeral home.
"Calm down, it is not a train leaving" says Amandine.

The weather is freezing and humid when we arrive to the little church of Rivalta.
The bell tower vanished in the greyness. Some friends of Gaia brought multicolored balloons.
They let them go when the coffin arrives. Little colored spots disappear into the fog and warm me up. 

In Gaïa's house, we drink, we laught, we share memories.
We write some letter for her that we burn in a fire.
We want to replace the morbid images invading our imagination by the memory of a fun,
generous and alive young woman.

It is important to be together in front of the death.
I'm thinking about the people who could not come.

"When you see the coffin, don't see a wooden box, but a closing book, that touched your soul",
said her mother. 

Have a nice trip Gaïa.
A lot of people here love you, and will remember you.