remember my one-way trek to italy that got canceled by covid? well, God had other plans for me—like moving, marriage, and motherhood. and all these years later, i finally made it back to italy - this time with my hubby and our 4½-year-old in tow!
in september, we spent twenty-one days tooling about italy. but rather than solo, this time as a trio. yes, exploring europe as a party of one was epic - there was freedom to wander wherever i wished, run my business from my laptop, and meet amazing people along the way; but i often felt very alone. “sì, solo io” became my familiar mantra when requesting a table for one.
in that (long) season of singleness, i often traveled because home felt like something was missing. perhaps i was searching for something, escaping the aloneness, or simply distracting myself with adventure. whatever the reason, i dreamed, hoped, and prayed that someday i'd return to italy with a family of my own. and someday finally happened.
upon landing in milan, my iphone memories reminded me that eleven years earlier, on september 1, 2015, i'd first laid eyes on the city and its magnificent duomo. milan has always held a special place in my heart because of my mom.
these are words i wrote during that first visit:
“one place mom always wanted to go: milan, the fashion capital of the world. it was always my dream that someday i could afford to buy flights + whisk her off for a fantastic getaway shopping + laughing + eating, just momma + me. while we never made it together, i made it a point to make it to milan. my first glimpse of that glorious cathedral took my breath away. standing there under the heat of the sun + bright blue skies, i was taking it in for the both of us, very much feeling her presence.
then the most wild thing happened: a VERY loud crack of thunder, lightning flashed + in the blink of an eye it began pouring down rain. tourists began running every which way to take cover + within moments the piazza was completely empty.
there i stood, soaked. smiling + soggy, tears just streamed down my face; God was reminding me that even in my loneliness, i wasn’t alone.”
milan, september 2015
eleven years later, i stood before that same cathedral. but this time, i wasn't alone.
with our little one strapped to my hubby's back, we wandered the rooftop terraces, marveling at the marble spires and stunning sculptures. eden was in complete awe, declaring “molto, molto bene!” when asked what she thought.
from milan, we made our way through verona (my favorite!), venezia, and lake garda before arriving in maranello for a long-awaited family reunion. the last time i'd visited my cousin was for his 40th birthday seven years earlier—and since then, we'd both become parents! watching eden (4½) and lorenzo (6) meet, play, and become fast friends without speaking the same language was priceless. giggles need no translation! she taught him to say “oh my goodness,” and she learned “aspetta!” to get his attention. a little lover of language, she picked up un po' di italiano along the way.
from there, we continued to the tuscan seaside, wandered charming hill towns, and finished with five fabulous days in firenze.
friends have asked how she handled three weeks of travel, and my answer is simple: phenomenally. she was a terrific little traveler—curious, courageous, and completely captivated by the adventure. but around day fifteen, something interesting happened.
she started talking about how much she missed home. in one breath, she'd marvel at the magic of italy, and in the next, mention her toys, missing her sissy, her cousins, and the comforts of home waiting for her back in colorado.
she loved where we were. and she loved where we belonged.
upon landing back in the states, she sighed and announced, “whew, now we can speak normal again!”
watching our four-year-old explore the world with wide-eyed wonder was everything. but watching her delight in discovery while still longing for home revealed something i hadn't fully recognized in myself. after all those years of praying i'd someday return to italy with a family of my own, i thought going was the goal.
and yes, going was a gift. a beautiful, breathtaking, answered-prayer kind of gift. but the greater gift was realizing how much i loved the life waiting for me when we returned.
once upon a time, i traveled because home felt like something was missing. now, i travel with a heart full of reasons to return.
what a gift to go. what a blessing to belong.
because while it's lovely to travel the world, it's an extraordinary luxury to love the life you return to.
grazie a Dio! 🤍