Today is my anniversary. No, not my wedding anniversary. That one (our 27th) is in October. No, one year ago today I fell in love with a country. Last year, celebrating our 25th anniversary (okay, we were a little late), I finally set foot in a land I've been dreaming about for years. Italy.
It was supposed to happen a long time ago. When we were first married, living in England, we were scheduled to take a romantic vacation to Lake Maggiore (not far from George Clooney's humble abode). Newly pregnant after miscarrying I experienced complications and was advised not to fly. Reluctantly, our plans were cancelled but my hubby was quick to reassure me that it would be a short delay. I wish I would have asked him to clarify "short" because, despite two stints in Europe, we never did set foot on Italian soil until last April 13th.
There's not much in life that can live up to the hype of waiting for something for twenty-two years. Tack on another year and a half of planning, which included reading every guide book, studying the language and watching every Italian travel video our local library possesses, and you have a recipe for disappointment. Not even close. This trip was a life-changing event. Venice, Rome, Positano, Capri, Sorrento - places that only lived in my fantasies, are now the sites of the most memorable seventeen days of my live. To say I am obsessed with all things Italian is putting it mildly. Just ask my children. So now, one year later, I'm counting the days (as are my kids) until I can find a way to get back on that plane and reacquaint myself with the culture I should have been born into. Until then, I have seventeen hundred photos and a brain full of memories that will have to sustain me. Some days, that's almost enough.
No comments:
Post a Comment