Without Silvio Berlusconi Italy is definitely more boring and poor because it is orphan of his uncontainable vitality, of his very vivacious talent, his smile and his self-irony. For me Silvio Berlusconi is the one who during the funerals of the victims of earthquake of The Eagle leaves the front row reserved for the authorities and goes among the relatives of the victims, trying to console them.
I lose one maestro of politics but above all of life. With him I laughed a lot, reasoned a lot, sometimes even cried. I saw him smile and suffer for daily incessant attacks that he judged undeserved. I’ve seen him imagine things that we didn’t even intuit. I saw a real man, courageous, very generous, humble, sweet, who loved Italy and the Italians, who didn’t make the slightest distinction between rich and poor. That he distributed opportunities in a country stingy with chances.
Many will have the opportunity to tell anecdotes about his greatness and what he has achieved in Italy where everything is very difficult. I limit myself to saying that Berlusconi took me into his staff and welcomed me like a nephew, like a son. I slept on the mezzanine of the studio where he made his legendary recordings.
That working with him has been the most inspiring and enjoyable experience of my entire life. That he taught me a lot: that one can be decisive but with a smile, successful but good, determined and serene. That in life one must seek harmony with others. To remain loyal to him, I’ve lost my place as a parliamentarian. But that’s okay. Thanks to him I was born politically, with him I’m leaving politically. Goodbye president.