“Life without you [is] an enormous burden that my weak shoulders do not have the strength to bear,” Ada wrote in her diary shortly after Piero's death. She could not even attend Piero Gobetti's funeral in Paris because the Fascists had confiscated her passport. Only Piero's parents were able to attend.

Ada compelled herself to turn her attention to Paolo: “I cannot go crazy; you would not want me to leave your baby alone.” While Ada mourned that Paolo would not remember his father, she hoped that Piero's legacy would one day speak to his son: “I suffer for you, little one, who will not know his smile and the limpid caress of his look, and who will not be able to remember his voice. When you [are old enough] to understand, your father will be a symbol for you of everything lofty and good. You will fi nd him in his books and in his letters, which I will save for you, intact; in the writings that he left; and in the words of his true friends who are close by you still.” She tried to fi nd strength in contemplating the meaning of Piero's life, noting that he would not want people to weep for him, but rather to view his life as an example. In order to accept this reality, Ada understood that she could not give in to the absolute powerlessness and vulnerability she felt: “I must not be a weak woman who lost her love, a creature who no longer has her guide, [or] a lost child who no longer knows where to abandon her leader.” She saw Piero's life as spent for others: “Did you not die perhaps because you gave as much as you could give …?” She concluded, “During your brief existence, there was so much passion, so much work, and so much joy that it was much richer and happier than so many other very long lives. There was nothing in it that was ugly, imperfect, [or] uncertain. It was all light, a short allegory of brilliant intensity.”