Berlusconi Funeral Fascina Family
Silvio Berlusconi, his children at lunch with Marta Fascina in the villa in Arcore
It wasn’t obvious, and instead the lunch was held at Villa San Martino ad Arcore among his family, Marta Fascina and his closest friends Silvio Berlusconito one year after the death of the cavalryman. “He knew it and we knew it too, that it would end like this. After all, that’s what he taught us, right?”. And again: “All those about whom no one would have said in advance that they would clash with each other, and instead they did; while many of us wrote that we would argue or split up, and instead we didn’t In fact, we are all here. And, what matters most, we are together.”
None of those who should have been invited were left without it. All the children take their seats at the table, from Marina to Luigi, through Pier Silvio, Barbara, Eleonora; his brother Paolo and some nephews; then the very hard base of the toughest Berlusconism, and then Fedele Confalonieri, Gianni Letta, Adriano Galliani and also Marcello Dell’Utri. And obviously Marta Fascina, who lives and will continue to live in the villa in Arcore because her father told her children “love her as I love her” and they did it, all of them, without distinction and reciprocated.
As reported by Corriere della Sera, the rite of secular commemoration follows the unwritten liturgies of secular commemorations. Before sitting down at the table, Pier Silvio has the honor of being the first to raise the glass and call the toast. Then, without anyone paying much attention to the first one who begins to bring up the topic, the balance of what lifelong friends – with a hint of affectionate irony – call “Silvio’s new Italian miracle”. At the table the voices overlap, like memories. Confalonieri is the best trained in the recognition of the oldest memories, Letta in those that more closely concern politics, Dell’Utri the most precise in reminding others “you weren’t there that time…”. Galliani is the only one, along with some nephews, who cries real tears at a certain point. The rest, as happens in other funerals and in the anniversaries that commemorate them when a round amount has passed, such as a year or five or ten, is also made up of people who find each other after having been lost. “How happy would he be today?”, at a certain point the children’s voices overlap, as if always wanting to insist on that same key, the family unit strengthened, the vase intact without shards and that imperceptible phrase that at a certain point, when everyone was about to leave, to say goodbye, it escaped the lips of brother Paolo: “It’s his teaching. We owed it to him”.
They promised to all get together at the first available opportunity. And, if not before, next September 29th, on Berlusconi’s birthday.
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