This is one of the wonderful little everyday-gestures that during all my life I have observed in her. Placida, my grandmother, she was 39 years old way back in '63, when under the wave of the Vajont she lost her husband. A person who, unfortunately, fate has not left the time to let me know. Everyone knew that that piece of mountain would have fall in that artificial lake. But no one expected that the water would sweep away forever an entire village and almost all its inhabitants. A wave that left her, and another handful of souls, completely alone in the world.