Is a friendship measurable? Well, I have a theory. If you ever lost a truly beloved one try to remember the ones that attended the funeral service. When my mother passed away, not only did I count on my better half’s unconditional support (which I cannot live without) along with his wonderful family but also on friends who wouldn't be anywhere else but there, by my side.

After a while I caught myself thinking of the people who I thought to be close enough to make themselves present at one of the most painful days of my life. It turns out that I was quite wrong. Nevertheless, life has also been generous to me either pointing out the right direction or simply taking care of untruthful things naturally. Seven years after my mom rested in peace, the ones who I missed at her departure day are not even part of my life anymore. To me, this is life showing that a true friendship will never fade with time and likewise the real friends will also show up when you need them the most.

As much as funeral services can be overwhelming and disturb the grieving process even more, there's a symbolic message that comes with it: it's when we see the beautiful meaning of empathy. When pain is shared, love and care manifest themselves in great abundance. It hurts so much but the burden can be slightly appeased when we are amongst the ones who can relate to our suffering.

As I write this Confession down, my partner and his family grieve the loss of his patriarch. What a great, honorable and one-of-a-kind man he was! In fact, words don’t do justice to describe his integrity and personality. There wasn't a single person who crossed my father-in-law's path that didn't learn from him. He was actually one of those people who we tended to consider as invincible, immortal... so strong was his character. It's indeed a very sad time and a big loss for us all.

Then I got myself thinking again about the friends who showed up this time. There they were: a couple of two best friends who made the effort to drive from miles away, interrupting their busy lives in order to be there with compassionate and tender hearts. For the record, I couldn't go. I got stuck in Italy. I can hardly describe what it was like for me not being able to hold my better half's hand at the final goodbye. But our two best friends made it, representing friendship, love and a bit of myself.

I dedicate this letter to them who we are lucky enough to have in our lives. Sa and Viola: all my love and gratitude for you, my beloved friends.