The Last Words

As I mentioned at the beginning of this issue, I am a citizen of both the US and Italy, and because of that, I have many friends and family throughout Italy. I have been in contact with many of them over the past few weeks, checking to make sure they are okay and keeping safe. As of this writing, everyone with whom I’ve spoken has remained physically healthy. None lives in the Red Zone, but no matter where they are, the virus has upended all of their lives and businesses.

The one thing I take away from each conversation is how positive they all are in the midst of all of this. Cesare, who owns Bar Santo Stefano in Bologna, tells me that because he is Spanish, he is trying to look at what comes at him with a bit of humor. Novelia, who with her husband, Peppe, is an unofficial ambassador of Abruzzo, looks toward the time that she can start showing people the beauty of her town and region. Laurell, Fede, and their children cook together. Cristina, whose son owns a bar in the village of my grandparents, says that it is, indeed, a horrible time, but the world will turn beautiful again. Kristi, an ex-pat married to an Italian, helps neighbors who need food or other necessities. There are so many others, including my my friend, Giovanni, who owns a B&B in Bologna.

A few weeks ago, he told me that all of his March guests had canceled their reservations. His wife, who is a teacher, had taken her mother and their two children to San Giovanni Lipioni, the village where the mother had grown up. He decided to join them for a few days since he had no business, and before they could return to Bologna, the government locked down the country.

San Giovanni Lipioni is a small town at the southernmost tip of Abruzzo. There are fewer than 50 full-time residents, most of whom are elderly. Olive groves and meadows surround the hill town which overlooks the Trigno valley. He wrote me an email from there, and I would like to share his beautiful words and thoughts that in the midst of this dark time, there still is something to be happy about.

I end with his words:

“. . .There is an incredible silence, but the landscape is very beautiful. We take long walks in the woods and among the olive trees. Despite the concern of these days, we are calm and happy to be together and to have so much time to share every day, something that does not happen often in Bologna. . .Sunday it snowed a little, but yesterday it was sunny. Spring is coming. The trees are full of white flowers, and violets fill the meadows under the expanse of olive trees that surround the town.

I'm afraid we will have to stay here until early April. However, we try to continue our daily activities between children's homework and long walks. . .We hope that this period will pass quickly without leaving too many negative consequences. I hope that one day we will remember these days with a smile, like a forced holiday that brought us back to appreciate the small joys of each day. . .”