October 24th was, for a very long time, a difficult "anniversary" day for me. It marked the day my father left, a day I can never forget. I would acknowledge it silently, briefly as the wave of inevitable melancholy would wash over me. Not so much because I lost my father that day but because I lost my childhood. I lost my entire family. Nothing was ever the same again.
Now, however, that anniversary has been turned around, not only through the mere passage of time, but because a year ago, it was the day I came to live in Italy. There was trepidation mixed with excitement and absolutely no time to dwell on the events of more than fifty years ago.
I arrived by myself, to a house lacking heat and hot water, with very little in the way of "furniture"...tired, cold, dirty, hungry.
Here we are, one year later. The heat is on, the hot water is wonderful, the toilet is now attached to the floor (!!), our furniture is here, there is a fridge full of locally grown vegetables and nothing processed, food with ingredients that are pronounceable and recognizable. There is an oven that actually works. The damage to the walls has been repaired so there are no unwanted drafts or visitors. The balcony is safe. I can wash and dry the laundry.
In this year I have so far lost eighteen pounds, strengthened my legs and knees and still manage to have lots of wonderful meals and the occasional gelato.
We have already applied for our next Permit to Stay (Permesso di Soggiorno) so that worry is off the list. Recently we found an above ground cantina (storage space) just a couple of doors away, so our back room can now be transformed from a closet into an actual room, a reading room/guest room of sorts.
This year, rather than a piece of toast and year old (but still remarkably good, thanks to it being semi frozen) wine...there will be prosecco and perhaps a hot casserole dish, a fresh salad and a piece of bread that is heaven with each bite. There will be music playing under the chandelier in the living room. Harry will be happily napping on his cushy couch.
This year, October 24th will be a celebration.
Now, however, that anniversary has been turned around, not only through the mere passage of time, but because a year ago, it was the day I came to live in Italy. There was trepidation mixed with excitement and absolutely no time to dwell on the events of more than fifty years ago.
I arrived by myself, to a house lacking heat and hot water, with very little in the way of "furniture"...tired, cold, dirty, hungry.
Here we are, one year later. The heat is on, the hot water is wonderful, the toilet is now attached to the floor (!!), our furniture is here, there is a fridge full of locally grown vegetables and nothing processed, food with ingredients that are pronounceable and recognizable. There is an oven that actually works. The damage to the walls has been repaired so there are no unwanted drafts or visitors. The balcony is safe. I can wash and dry the laundry.
In this year I have so far lost eighteen pounds, strengthened my legs and knees and still manage to have lots of wonderful meals and the occasional gelato.
We have already applied for our next Permit to Stay (Permesso di Soggiorno) so that worry is off the list. Recently we found an above ground cantina (storage space) just a couple of doors away, so our back room can now be transformed from a closet into an actual room, a reading room/guest room of sorts.
This year, rather than a piece of toast and year old (but still remarkably good, thanks to it being semi frozen) wine...there will be prosecco and perhaps a hot casserole dish, a fresh salad and a piece of bread that is heaven with each bite. There will be music playing under the chandelier in the living room. Harry will be happily napping on his cushy couch.
This year, October 24th will be a celebration.
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