My nieces and my only nephew don't have a father anymore.

He was exactly my age, died in May, I traveled there to be at the funeral and came back right now. His death felt strange; I had known the guy for 53 years. Strange that he is no more.

All his daughters and the son cried a lot, and also his granddaughters -- the grandsons not so much. My sister had divorced him about ten years ago, because the guy had casual sexual relationships with many women; but they were still on good terms, so it was hard for my sister. I felt especially pity for his son, my nephew, who is a beer alcoholic, has put on weight, was carrying his father with his head bowed, teary, humble-looking, formerly athletic but now overweight because of beer.

One of his grandsons was missing, he could not be present. I said something cryptic about this almost a year ago when I visited my sister last. The son of my favorite niece -- yes, he could not come there. Look at the title.

That's life.

In the train back... I knew that if I go to the restaurant wagon I will of course see something unforgettable, something like the siena girl many years ago, and it was true. I was talking with two rough guys. A woman carrying something came in, I happened to see an exceptionally cute little face. Then the woman with her two girls sat down beside me, the girls opposite me. -Twins, one of the rough guys said, and it was almost like the whole restaurant wagon was smiling at them. They were not cute; no, they were BEAUTIFUL. I guessed they were between 2 and 3. Maybe they were purely Scandinavian, but I could describe them best by saying that they were half Finnish, half Mediterranean: slim figures, big eyes, big CHOCOLADE eyes, darkish eyebrows and eyelashes -- yes, they were very beautiful!!

- Twins? I asked the mother in my language.

- Yes, she said.

- How old?

- Two and a half.

Later they left and I smiled very warmly to one of the twins.