Monday, July 22, 2013

My husband died 18 years ago today. My life as I had known it, changed. My kids changed. I , certainly changed.

I don't know why I am feeling it more today than in other years. I am not sure I am. I am sure that I am paying attention to it differently this year. This longing. This missing. This dramatic moment when life stops in its track. There are times when I am not aware of the anniversary. (I hate that term, as I usually associate it with good things to remember) of George's passing. But, I ALWAYS know it cellularly. I recognize that this day is different even if my head has not already alerted me to that information. I know it. It is different when I am stateside, as the memories are NOT there. Perhaps, it is because I am in a new house. A new stage in my life. Perhaps it is the CHANGE that prompts me ever so delicately.... and insistently to remember today.

It was exactly as planned. Lella came over with her dog Scott. He was my virgin dog in the house, and he didn't mark his territory at all. I love this Scott. We had a delightful couple of hours , sitting on the kitchen terrace overlooking the lake. At one moment, Lella said "Look at the water, Judy" I looked.
       She said "look at the waves which are coming from no where. No boat is anywhere nearby. She continued,  "that is strange."

It was strange. It looked like a whale skimming the surface of the water. I simply said "It is George, letting us know that he is here with us." It was a perfect thought.

I had Lella read the first three pages of the manuscript, the Prologue. It is written in English. So, she would read it in English and then say it in Italian. It was a beautiful collaboration. She had tears in her eyes... but, kept saying that the description was amazing. She knows. She was the only other one there with me when I was told that George "e morto". So, it was a beautiful way to begin my day.

I then set to work to see what frames and art will be returning with Carlyle and to George. I had to see how much space it would take and how many pounds it was. going through the hundreds of momentos and photos which will be sent home was a beautiful experience. I found places in both homes for another 10 things to hang. Things, which are not necessarily needed back home and COULD be used here. Yeah: less to pack.

Afterwards, I took a passegiata... looking for biscuits/cookies for Clelia's visit, and looking to purchase some flowers. Stargazer Lillies! I waited 20 minutes for the flower shop before I realized that they were closed on Mondays. I looked at the times posted, but not the 'days'.

Then, I had the most marvelous time with Clelia. She is an angel with one eye. She doesn't see well with that one eye, but has the eye of an artist, still. She used to design clothing in Itlay. I loved the way she spent hours, looking at each detail. She said "You should sell tickets for folks to be able to see your homes, your taste" How sweet. She noticed the intentionally placed framed to mimic the horizontal lines of the headboard. Her enthusiasm and keen sense of observation was delightful. It was a new way for her to get to know me. It is simple: you see my home, you know me.

Diego joined us, and again: but this time, it was me - read the prologue of the manuscript. I read it in english in my head and said it in Italian. Clelia was touched, as so was Diego.

I then scurried to see Camillo: took a ride on his boat to see George's plaque, which is placed on his home on the lakefront. We then cruised in front of Menaggio and Nobiallo- seeing some new villas owned by a Dane and an American. I haven't cruised passed there for a couple of years. Of course, it was cool, passing my villa in Menaggio.

I came home, read the most amazing and touching emails from dear family and friends. I feel filled up. Glad to be alive. Glad to have my friends. My family.

smiles and warmth
Judy