The same letter, in the new system.

Because there are no second chances for presence.

Motherhood, for me, is more about being there for them than necessarily doing something for them.

Of course we constantly do things for them. We care, we provide, we listen, we carry, we embrace, we correct, we wash an unbelievable amount of socks, we pick up an endless number of things.

Of course we do all this. And they say one day we will miss it.

But lately I keep thinking about being there. Really there.

Sometimes I need to remind myself that maybe the most important thing is not doing more, but being present.

Because one day they will not be there in the same way anymore, and we will miss it.
And there are no second chances for presence.

Time spent together — little or great, chaotic or beautiful — asks us to be present.

I want to be present.
The present, after all, is the only time we truly have.

More than 150 years apart — and yet.

The same hands guiding. The same quiet patience. The same leaning in.

Time has changed almost everything.
The way we dress, the way we speak, the way we live.

But not this.

Not the way a mother sits beside her child and shows her how.
Not the thread passing from one pair of hands to another.
Not the warmth of that small, ordinary, unrepeatable moment.

It doesn't have to be sewing.
Look into yourself — I am sure you will find something.
A simple, beautiful thing only you can pass on.
Something that is yours, and will one day be theirs.

This is what has always been.
This is what will always be.

Happy Mother's Day.

Inspired by a IX-century Romanesque capital — the elegantly sculpted crown of a column from Saint Bartolomeo Church in Babbio, Emilia Romagna, Italy. Richly carved with leaf motifs, it embodies the profound symbolism of the Romanesque era, where every detail tells a story. In these delicate stone bas-reliefs, the leaves become emblems of life, renewal, and spiritual growth — expressing the eternal cycle of nature and faith that binds the earthly world to the divine.

In a visionary reinterpretation, Intrecci — “entwined” — with its gentle diagonal threads, evokes the quiet connections among guests at the table.

Leaves and blossoms, timeless symbols of giving and receiving, celebrate unity, shared moments, and the warmth of togetherness.