101 À 101 ans, je me réveille entre 7h30 et 8h et je prends mon petit-déjeuner avec des cafétis et des biscuits. Je saute le déjeuner, au dîner, du poulet avec des légumes ou du poisson. Personne ne sait plus faire le risotto à la milanaise. De temps en temps, je mange de la glace au café: Carla Villa

Carla Villa, a 101-year-old resident of Milan, has shared her daily routine and reflections on life with a quiet dignity. She wakes up between 7:30 and 8 a.m., starts her day with coffee and biscuits, skips lunch, and enjoys chicken with vegetables or fish for dinner. She mentions that traditional dishes like risotto alla Milanese are no longer made as they once were, and she occasionally indulges in gelato at the café owned by her son, Thomas. Her words, captured in a conversation with Il Corriere della Sera, reveal a woman who lives with purpose and resilience. Born into a family deeply rooted in Milan’s history, Villa recalls her father, Luigi, who ran one of the city’s most prominent grocery stores, the Drogheria Villa, located on Via San Marco. This shop was a regular stop for journalists working at the newspaper’s old headquarters nearby. The building later became the home of El Tombon, a restaurant named after her late husband, which was originally run by his brothers, Cesare and Franco. For nearly a century, Villa has lived on this street, maintaining a connection to both its past and present. Her lifestyle reflects a blend of tradition and independence. She does not see aging as a limitation, nor does she view the years as slowing her down. She describes herself as someone who has always acted according to her will, even before the social movements of the 1960s. While many of her peers participated in protests, Villa chose a different path, she secured her freedom long before the era of civil unrest, making decisions such as raising her son, Thomas, without seeking permission from others. Villa’s daily life continues to involve close relationships with her family and neighbors. Her son, Thomas, manages the café where she often visits, and he prepares the gelato she enjoys. She also keeps company with “Lolita,” a companion who helps with meals, and other visitors, including women sent by the local municipality and a friend named Ruth. Despite mobility challenges, she still enjoys walking through the neighborhood when the weather permits. When asked about death, Villa expresses a pragmatic outlook. She acknowledges that mortality is inevitable, yet she does not look forward to it. “If Thomas weren’t here, I wouldn’t mind dying,” she says, though she adds that she doesn’t say it aloud. Her words suggest a deep emotional bond with her son, one that shapes her perspective on life and loss. The story of Carla Villa is more than just a personal account, it is a reflection of a generation that shaped modern Italy. Her presence in Milan, a city known for its cultural richness and historical depth, underscores the enduring legacy of individuals who have lived through decades of change. As she continues to navigate her days with grace and strength, her story serves as a living testament to the power of resilience and the importance of preserving the past while embracing the present.