Matteo Materazzi and Maura: “He is my family”. Love that chooses to be there
One diagnosis changes everything. After a separation, Matteo and Maura found their way back to each other. On Verissimo, they shared a story that reminds us how much being present can mean, even when words fail.

Some declarations of love need neither a candlelit terrace nor a song playing in the background. They arrive in a small, familiar sentence. “He is my family,” Maura says of Matteo Materazzi. That word, family, holds so much: years spent together, things that broke, things that can be mended. It also leaves room to acknowledge that a relationship has not always been easy.
In their Verissimo interview on 25 October, Matteo and his wife discussed their life with ALS. Their personal account deserves to be heard on its own terms. This is no fairy tale in which loving each other makes everything right again. The illness and its difficulties remain. Yet people remain too, along with the possibility of seeing one another anew.
A life changes; a person remains whole
The diagnosis came in September 2024. Matteo describes increasing limitations and a transformed daily life. Beside him, Maura recalls the journey towards finding a name for the first symptoms. The former footballer and sports agent also describes time spent in the United States receiving an experimental treatment, with support from friends. This is an individual experience: it does not establish a treatment’s effectiveness or justify promises of recovery.
Listening to a story like this calls for particular care. Before the diagnosis there was Matteo, with his history, relationships and personality. He is still there afterwards. Sometimes even an affectionate gaze ends up seeing only a wheelchair, a medical device or a difficulty. Making room for the person means remembering to ask what they think, what they would like to discuss and what makes them smile.
Finding each other after a separation
Matteo and Maura explain that they were separated when the illness arrived. Coming together again allowed them to rediscover their feelings. In Maura’s words, their family bond would have mattered even had they not reunited as a couple. Perhaps this is the moment to pause over: love is described as more than a romantic feeling, as recognition of a shared history.
That opens a reflection relevant to many of us. A long relationship is not a still photograph. It can include distance, misunderstandings and attempts to begin again. When two people choose to move closer, nobody outside their relationship can measure what that step takes. We can listen without turning their choice into a rule for every couple.
Those who care need care too
A love story moves us. Daily life then asks for very practical things: a phone call to arrange an appointment, someone to run an errand, an afternoon of rest for a caregiver. This is CHIARA!’s reflection, rather than a description of the Materazzi family’s private routine. Support often becomes more useful when it moves beyond a general promise and takes the shape of a specific commitment.
If a family near you is struggling, you could start with a simple offer: “I could bring your groceries on Tuesday. Would that help?” Or ask what they prefer, rather than deciding for them. Being present does not mean intruding. Accepting “not today” is another way to respect someone. The best kind of closeness leaves breathing room and does not keep a tally of its generosity.
Children can have room for every emotion
The interview also touches on family life and parenthood. We stop there, without stepping into the children’s private feelings. For adults, this story can offer a reminder: do not expect someone living through pain to be an example all the time. Not every day has to produce an uplifting sentence to share. Difficult days deserve company precisely because they do not come with a perfect ending.
Those who believe can hold a family in prayer, then ask how to accompany them in practice. Both can belong together: entrusting to God what we cannot resolve and doing our part where something is possible. Quietly. Consistently. Even when the emotion of the interview has faded and the spotlight has moved elsewhere.
Sometimes love has a key to the front door
Maura’s sentence stays with us because it expresses a deep familiarity: recognising someone as part of your life. For readers, it can become a gentle question. Who could we help feel welcome today? Who could we offer a presence that does not depend on being entertaining, independent or cheerful?
We do not need the perfect speech. Perhaps we only need to sit down, listen properly and remember to come back. Sometimes that is the most precious care: someone who does not claim to fix everything, but takes your life seriously. And makes room for you.


