THE LIGHT THAT REMAINS LIT
During these holidays, a Christmas tree is lit in my house. The lights are soft, warm, and next to them is a lamp that stays on. It’s lit for Emanuele. It has been for years. It doesn’t just illuminate a room: it keeps alive a presence, a bond that time has not erased.
Rereading the editorials of past years, and especially the one from the end of 2024, I realize that many of the goals we set ourselves have been achieved. Yet, looking at that light, I also know that there is still so much to do. Because when it comes to glioblastoma and high-grade brain tumors, every step forward brings with it new responsibilities.
This year we have chosen to focus on something essential: not leaving people alone.
With the “Speranza e Coraggio” project, thanks to co-funding from the Friuli Venezia Giulia Region, we were able to activate a specialized psychological support service, free of charge and accessible remotely, for patients, caregivers, and family members, throughout the country and beyond. This service doesn’t promise easy solutions, but rather offers a listening ear, expertise, and continuity. Because those facing a brain tumor aren’t just fighting a disease: they’re fighting fear, uncertainty, and isolation.
We’ve also continued to grow Glioblastoma Navigator, a platform that increasingly embodies the concept of SuperMind: a place where patients, caregivers, specialists, and artificial intelligence systems collaborate, share information, and support each other. It’s through this platform that we can now provide the “Speranza e Coraggio” service, and it’s here that new tools and new possibilities will emerge. Because technology, when guided by humanity, can become a light in the darkness. The site continues to be visited, read, and consulted. Our columns on research news, stories of glioblastoma, and the conferences and meetings we organize continue to offer reliable and understandable information. Knowledge doesn’t eliminate pain, but it helps us not feel lost. And this, for us, remains a fundamental commitment.
Looking ahead to next year, our goal is clear: to grow “Speranza e Coraggio,” making it increasingly accessible, increasingly useful, increasingly present in the lives of those currently facing a high-grade brain tumor. Here, we need your help—the help of you, who are reading this article. Asking for this kind of help is never easy, but once the first step is taken, the benefit is enormous. At the same time, we will continue, with even greater determination, to inform, explain, and support. And we will further enrich the Glioblastoma Navigator, so that no one should feel alone when faced with overwhelming questions.
This year, we met with other volunteer organizations in Italy that work with brain tumors. A strong awareness emerged: together, we can do more. We need a united voice, an “umbrella organization” capable of truly making an impact. Because today, there are situations we can no longer accept: approved therapies that are unavailable in Italy, such as vorasidenib for tumors with the IDH mutation; territorial inequalities that mean devices like Optune are granted or denied depending on the local health authority. Treatment cannot depend on a zip code.
Emanuele hasn’t been physically with us for seven years. But that lamp, lit every evening, reminds me that love never goes out, and that from pain something can be born that helps others walk. This website, these projects, this community exist also thanks to him. In this holiday season, I want to embrace all those who know they can’t have the most desired gift—the return of someone who has passed away due to a brain tumor. To you, and to those who are fighting today, I want to say with simplicity and truth: you are not alone. There is a light burning. We will continue to keep it alive. With hope. And with courage.
