I'm old enough now that the vineyards that I plant will outlive me by a long way. But I'm used to this thought, I've been aware of this now for at least a couple of decades.
Harder to accept is the fact that some bottles will have that same possibility. I can only hope in a faulty cork or the gratitude of those that will prefer to drink them. Who knows, maybe to my own, useless health.
But here a recollection comes to my assistance, of a great 'enotecaro', as we call them here in Rome. Those men that dedicate their work to selling wines and to spreading the verb of the the vine. Well, one day, as he put his hand on my shoulder - we often use physical contact here to express feelings - this man led me, a new and curious novice of the nectar, with fatherly care, whilst I interrogated him on the life span of various bottles, to one of the deepest corners of his cellar. 'Come', he said, 'this is where I keep my Eternal Wines. Special and inconsumable'. I was amazed to see, perfectly ordered, one after the other, hundreds of bottle…empty!
Each one bearing a date, with names, memories; we looked each other in the eye, in perfect complicity. I got it.
I continued to see him for years, though never, did we ever speak of it again. But now that he is no longer with us, I would so like to ask him; who was that Giulia, Barolo 1959, that I had glanced at and noticed while I saw his eye twinkle mischievously looking in the same place? Certainly, not just an empty bottle.
I'll go and toast to that with a tipple…. Eternity exists.