The way YOU saved ME

light after the dark

2.

*Enzo*

I was infinitely grateful to Isa. Without her, I would never have made it through the last few months. I probably wouldn't even have survived them.

It was a complete mystery to me where she got the strength to get up every day and just sort everything out. Especially at the beginning, there had been days when I hadn't even managed to get out of bed. She had always looked after my children and seen that I ate something. She had always carried on when I was no longer able to.

She got up every day and I really admired her for that.

She was much stronger than me and I was grateful that she was there. Not only for my children but for me too. She was the only one aside from my kids whom I could let close.

Isa had always kept on top of things. She had kept the family together without giving up a single day.

I really didn't understand how she did it, but I admired her for it. Some days I really wished I had her strength.

She had organized everything again so that we were in the car on time with all three children on the way to the airport.

And while I was riding, I was really thinking about whether it was the right decision to get back on the bike.

I didn't know if I was ready.

Without my Eli in my box...

I didn't know if I could do it, but I knew she would have wanted it. She had sacrificed so much for me to be able to pursue my career. My big dream.

In a way, I just owed it to her.

She adorned my helmet this weekend and would have her place on it for the rest of the season. But for this weekend, I had decided on a special design.

Eli had been an artist.

Her paintings still adorned every wall in our house. I couldn't take them down. So at least I felt like I could still feel her and because I really loved her paintings.

But I loved one in particular.

It hung in our bedroom and I had stared at it for many sleepless nights while I cried for her.

It was the last picture she had painted.

I had it made as a helmet design and wore it with her picture on the back of my head with me this weekend.

I would never forget her. I wanted to make that very clear. I always carried her with me.

I hadn't taken off our wedding ring either.

I wasn't sure if I would ever be ready to do that. It was my connection to her. Whether in life or in death.

Because she would always be important to me. We shared so much memories that it would never really end. No matter if I would find someone new or not.

I had received many messages on Instagram in the weeks and months since her death. Lots of condolences, but also lots of messages from women who had flirted with me, who had wanted to go on a date with me.

It had been absurd.

Sure, these messages had come during my marriage, but somehow they had felt even more disrespectful after Eli's death.

Women who had written to me about how much they wanted to be the new mom to my kids.

I had rarely felt so disgusted by people.

I hadn't replied to anyone, because if I was completely honest, I was pretty sure there was no one out there even remotely like my Eli.

Maybe I didn't even want that.

I had a mother for my children. And even if she was no longer with me, I certainly didn't want anyone to take her place.

As if Eli could be replaced just like that.

I could only shake my head over and over again at this messages.

They had also been a reason why I had made the helmet. I wanted the whole world to understand that death was absolutely no reason for me to forget my Eli. She was a part of me and always would be.

We had three wonderful children together who reminded me of her every day.

Remo in particular, our middle son, was so much like her. He could be just as stubborn as my wife and he was only three years old. I loved him for it, but sometimes he just drove me to the brink of despair.

Our eldest, Filippo, took after me more. At least if I could trust everyone around us. He loved motorcycles more than people and I actually saw myself there sometimes. At the age of five, he already understood more about engines than about things that children were usually interested in. Given the choice of uncles, however, this was hardly surprising.

What else was he supposed to love when he grew up virtually within sight of Valentino Rossi's famous ranch?

It had been Vale who had driven Eli to the hospital when Pippo was born.

I had just been grocery shopping and then got a very excited phone call.

Vale had been a mixture of big brother and father to Eliana. He had taken Eli and Isa in when they had had nowhere else to go.

He was one of the most important people in my children's lives.

But not only him. The rest of the VR46 boys had also accompanied my children from the very beginning. They taught them a lot of useful things as well as a lot of nonsense.

But it wasn't just Elia's side of the family that was motorcycle crazy.

My side also had a lot to offer. I didn't have any siblings, but my two cousins Raul and Adrian did. Raul was now riding with me in MotoGP and Adrian was riding in Moto3. They had just as big an influence as my two best friends, who were almost like brothers to me. Marc and Alex Marquez.

I had grown up with the brothers and had been competing on the track, especially with Marc, since I was a child.

But since Eli's death, this influence had been much too short-lived.

We had stayed in our house in Italy and tried to get back on our feet.

We still had a long way to go, but I was happy to have all my friends around me again this weekend.

Especially because they had all missed so much with my little one. Bella was now eleven months old and was going through the most impressive developments. She was growing way too fast.

But I couldn't wait to find out who she took after more.

And I could hardly wait for the boys to see her again.

Raul and Adrian had been with us a few times during the winter break, but I had largely excluded Marc and Alex. I couldn't stand any stress and even after all these years, the two of them weren't welcome in Tavullia.

So I had ruled them out a little, because I certainly wouldn't have been able to fly to them. Not with three children, because I wasn't sure whether Isa would have accompanied me to them.

I still didn't know what had happened between her and Marc, but she had refused to even go near him afterwards.

Not out of fear, but out of anger.

And I knew my sister-in-law well enough to know that she was never angry for no reason.

So Marc must have said or done something that was really stupid.

Maybe it would all work out at some point. Maybe one day I could ask her to fly to Spain with me.

But for now, I would see the boys again at the race track.

An incredibly happy thought after months of darkness.