MS entered my family’s life very suddenly in the summer of 1996.
My dad started experiencing what he thought were just pins and needles in one of his legs. Within a few days, he could no longer move that leg.
That was the beginning of a very long journey of hospital visits, tests, appointments and uncertainty. My dad was 53 at the time and, apparently, well outside the typical age range doctors expected for MS, so it took almost four years before he was finally diagnosed.
During those years, his life changed dramatically. His independence slowly disappeared, his ability to work deteriorated, and it wasn’t long before he needed a wheelchair.
After taking his legs, MS gradually affected his arms and his coordination. My dad was a piano player, so you can imagine what losing the ability to properly use his hands meant to him. It wasn’t only a physical loss. It had an enormous impact on his state of mind and his mood as well.
Towards the end, one of the hardest things MS took from him was his speech. Eventually, he could no longer talk or properly express himself.
Seven years. That is all it took for MS to take my father from us. He passed away at just 60 years old.
Years later, after I moved from Italy to Australia, my office organised a team to take part in the MS Gong Ride. I immediately felt that I wanted to be involved, despite the fact that I had never ridden anywhere near that distance and, at the time, I didn’t even own a bike.
So I bought a bike, started training and eventually made it to the start line.
On the day of the ride, whenever I inevitably started feeling tired and my legs were telling me they had had enough, I thought about my dad. I kept saying to myself:
“This is for you, Dad.”
And, of course, it was also for every person who might benefit, even in some small way, from the money I was able to raise.
That is what this ride means to me.
It is about trying to help people living with MS by doing something physical that many of them, sadly, may no longer be able to do themselves, no matter how much they would love to.
This year, though, the ride will feel even more special.
When I first took part, my son was only two years old and I rode it by myself. This year, he is 14, and we will be riding it together.
There is something incredibly meaningful to me about that. Twelve years later, my son and I will take on the challenge side by side, supporting a cause that is so deeply connected to our family and our story.
I know there will be moments when the kilometres feel long and the legs feel heavy. And when they do, I know exactly who I will be thinking about.
We are looking forward to challenging ourselves together, raising as much as we can for a cause that means so much to us, and most importantly, riding in memory of someone who will be with us every kilometre of the way:
Nonno Mino.
This one's for you, Dad.
