Memoirs of a Year in Italy

I can still remember that dreaded feeling that overcame me while wheeling our 7 large suitcases, 2 backpacks and my violin into the airport terminal in Las Vegas exactly 1 year ago today. It finally hit me after we went through security, staring out the walls of windows, looking at our plane, the plane that would carry our little family around the world, to something new, exciting, and terrifying at the same time.

When we arrived in Italy, we needed to hire out a small bus to drive us to our short term apartment rental. Imagine us trying to stuff all of our luggage into a mid-sized rental, carting our “life” around with us as we searched for a home to settle in. I think for about 2 weeks we switched off between eating pasta for lunch, pizza for dinner, gelato for a snack. I was relieved to finally have a rental secured (thank goodness for Ben’s Italian), and a place of our own. All those IKEA trips became old, so we finally rented a very large passenger van, and bought it all in one swoop. We stuffed mattresses, a couch, kitchen table, blankets, carpets, chairs, and our kitchen drawer units into the back of the van, with barely enough room to spare. What a night. What an adventure.

Our stove delivery didn’t come until 2 weeks later, so I had to be creative with the microwave. I think everyone complained that we had fruit salad one too many times. My hands became swollen from the endless tooling around, putting a house full of furniture together. Freeman and Grace put in many hours on their Nintendo DS’s while Mom & Dad were busy putting our house together.

The most memorable experience was their first day of school, where we practically dumped them in on the Italian public school system. I remember standing outside Grace’s classroom, not understanding a lick of what Ben was discussing with the teachers, and thinking to myself, “I have to say goodbye to my little girl…”. Of course, I broke down into tears, and had to turn around to catch a breath and suck it up. When we left Freeman to his teachers, I couldn’t handle it any longer, I gave him a hug, and left the school building crying.

Now, I look back, and smile. Thank goodness for an adventurous husband, and for my surprisingly good attitude…the good attitude managed to rub off on the kids and we made it through without many bumps or bruises. And thank goodness to looking forward. Here’s to life! La vita bella!