I decided to go. I know I haven't written much here of late. I'm not quite sure why, since my life is probably no busier now than it ever has been. I've felt mute. I've felt lazy. I've been trying to decide if I would return to Italy this summer with my boys. And today I finally decided to go.
It seems like such a no-brainer. I mean, who wouldn't want to go to Italy? What's my problem? But I do have a problem with it, as I always have when faced with returning to an old chapter in my life. I'm a burn bridges kind of person, and last year when my boys returned to Italy I couldn't even fathom returning. But now that I am finally planted in my house with my things surrounding me, I couldn't help but think of those boxes and boxes of my former self gathering dust. The many trappings of Jenny packed away like fodder. I miss those things, what ever they are. And I may miss Jenny a bit, too. She sneaks into my dreams in smells and sounds, and I know its finally time to retrieve her.
So this morning, as I turned on the news to the horrible earthquake that shook Italy, I remembered my beloved house and how the walls swayed and shuddered when we also were hit by an earthquake. I remembered the sound, like hell had opened up and let out a scream. I remembered my crystal glasses in shards on the floor, the only crystal I had ever owned and had painstakingly brought over piece by piece from the United States. I remembered the gut wrenching fury and frustration and beauty of such a place, and I decided to go.