Author’s note
This letter is part of a series of deeply personal writings, composed during the darkest moments of my exile. They were never meant to be published. They were words to myself, written to keep from falling apart, to remain a father even in silence.
Today, I choose to share them, fully aware that they may lose their private essence. But I do so with a clear purpose: to document the journey that brought me here, and to give a voice to those who still cannot speak.
The very moment I prepare to publish this letter, I feel the wounds again – the pain, the injustice, as if that moment had never passed.
To my dear children,
Christmas, whether for believers or not, is a time to be spent with loved ones. That’s why I feel a certain sadness this year – because I cannot live it fully with you, as I would wish.
Still, even in this unwanted distance, not everything is negative. I’ve had time to reflect, to understand even more deeply how important you are in my life.
Today it hurts to be away from you, but I carry in my heart so many moments of joy we have shared. Our laughter, your wonder at small discoveries, the days where we were simply ourselves – no rush, no obligations. All of this made me feel like the luckiest father in the world. With these thoughts, the sadness dissolves, leaving space for hope: the hope of sharing new adventures together, soon.
I want you to know that even when we are not physically together, you are always in my heart. Every smile, every word, every gesture from you fills me with pride and hope. There is nothing more precious to me than watching you grow, explore the world, and face life with your courage and your tenderness.
You are beautiful.
I wish you a Christmas full of warmth, peace, and joy. Take time to dream, to play, to laugh, knowing that my thoughts are always with you.
With all my love,