What Will You Order?

What a bittersweet thing change is. I've never been skydiving but I image my Italian life is similar. First the preparation, the actual flight to the designated altitude, the jump; a rush of adrenaline, fear, joy, anticipation, confusion, and relief for a safe landing.

We awoke on Sunday around 8:30 even though I found out later that Pat, Alberto, and I didn't get much sleep. I had butterflies in my stomach and despite going to bed at 4 am I still couldn't fall asleep. After breakfast I finished packing and then we loaded the car-thankfully the baggage fit. We had a thirty minute drive to the airport and fortunately the ski was clear so we had a beautiful view of the Alps. We talked a little but there were some long pauses where you could tell we were collecting our thoughts. Several times Alberto turned around to ask me questions (Pat was driving) and I could see tears in his eyes. I could see Pat's eyes in the rearview mirror and they were a bit misty. I kept looking at the boys and also got teary-eyed. Despite all my problems with Fil over these last six months, I'm still gonna miss the little punk. Ruggie, oh man I love this little guy and couldn't help but tear up as I watched him play with the door handle. When we arrived at the airport I checked my bags-the moment of truth-one weighed 28 kilos (the max is 30 kilos or 50lbs) the other, Charlie, weighted in at a whopping 56 kilos!! Because this is Italy, they were relaxed and didn't make me pay. We had time to sit and drink my last Italian cappucino-che buono. The boys went to the restroom so Pat and I had time to talk. She told me that every night Alberto tells her that he has always wanted a daughter and he considers me the daughter he never had. Well my goodness talk about water works. They came back and we walked to the gate. Goodbyes are hard but we managed to stay dry until Ruggie said in perfect English, "Good luck Lindsey." My heart exploded with joy. We parted with tears flowing. When I passed the security the guards (young tall dark and handsome) looked at my passport and started singing the Simpson's theme song. This made me laugh and feel much better. They asked if I was Lisa and I said no "Sono Maggie", they laughed and I headed for the exit to my Italian life.

Upon further review of my earlier posts, I have noticed I mention food a lot. This has made me realize how important food is-not just for obvious reason's (this is the philosophical part of the blog). Food is an international language in itself. Everyone has to have it, they all have there favorite "comfort foods", the mystery meat you won't eat from the cafeteria, and the Great Aunt Millie's fruitcake you are forced to eat. Food reflects your mood and the amount you eat for that matter. Food expresses love and appreciation. For example, a huge meal like Thanksgiving is made with love for your family and friends and you usually bring food or drink to a party as a gift. I will go even further to say that life is a menu full of dishes that are foreign and unfamiliar. It is up to you to decide what to order. Once the dish (whether a main course or appetizer) arrives it is up to you to enjoy and digest it. My parents and grandparents raised me to eat what was placed in front of me (even an Aunt Millie concoction) and finish everything on my plate. I'm trying to use this same advice in my life. My Italian life has really paved the way for me to execute this plan. It has forced me to "eat" outside my comfort zone and enjoy each dish. Now ask yourself what will you order and once it arrives from God's loving kitchen, how will you react and eat it? Boun Appitito.

I would like to thank everyone for reading my thoughts (no matter how scattered they may be) and for sharing my Italian life with me. Until the next course, Arrivederci and Baci Baci-Lindsey