A Weekend Next to the Sea!
Sardinia
November 1-3, 2007
Sardinia, a place I had spoken about for years, as I hurriedly discussed Italian unification of the mid 19th century. Yet, here I was, far away from Greene, New York. I was standing on the edge of the walled old city of Cagliari, having my first glance at the Mediterranean Sea. The white granite arch and stairs looked massive and contrasted interestingly with one piece of scarlet red graffiti. Written in perfect English, were the words “You are my special need.”, centered over a small outline of a heart. It was ugly, it was atrocious. I hate graffiti. Yet, there I was staring. Staring, led to wonder and then I found myself smirking.
Life is all about love, isn’t it? I mean I have wandered this country and this world for months now just watching and pondering and when I have been brave I have asked. I know more love stories than you can imagine, it is an addiction and probably not the healthiest one, but I have promised Tracey, I will not start smoking, so I suppose there are worse things than being addicted to the life stories of love. I have heard stories of three dates leading to a move to Italy which then led to a thirty year marriage. A marriage that still brings a glimmer to her eye as she speaks of him. I have heard stories of abandoned love. Love that makes a person's heart literally moan when watching the movie the Notebook. Yes, love is a powerful thing.
The girls from Via Mose were in Sardinia and this tiny sentence scrawled on beautiful white granite sparked a game of “Would you rather?” that would leave most of us with tears in our eyes. Each of us knows a little bit about heartache. Sonja and Amy have both lost their beloved fathers. Fathers that they LOVE. The kind of Fathers you dream about having. The ones that read the paper in the corner of the living room. The kind that show you what the world has to offer. The kind of father that is a harbor in the vast ocean. A father like mine.
“Would you rather have loved and lost? Or never really known love at all?” Sonja posed this cliché of a question. A question we have all heard the answer to a thousand times. Yet, her voice was far away, and her eyes glistened while dancing on the horizon.
“The obvious answer is of course love. Who would we be, if we hadn’t had those amazing people in our lives?”
“But sometimes it is just too much. Too much to have to go on without him. My Dad was so amazing that sometimes I wonder when the pain will actually stop? Then I think it just would be better to not know what I was missing.”
“I am not sure the pain ever stops. I can remember times when my own Mother, after a couple glasses of wine would find that tears easily came, missing her own Dad. And it had been twenty years. I think in many ways it will always be hard. But, think of this… Do the people we really love ever go away from us? Aren’t they always there? Aren’t they always right there with us?”
Can’t you feel them? Sometimes? Most times, I feel like they are right there next to me, nestled deep in my heart. I mean, wasn’t my Grandmother there in the lone yellow tulip when I was going to get a divorce? Can’t I feel my Mom’s love in every dew filled spider web I see? Don’t I, too, send love out to countless people on the evening and morning stars? The answer for me is yes! My choice, my choice is love. I shall pick love every time. What else is there really? Impermanence, and who really wants to contemplate that!
November 1-3, 2007
Sardinia, a place I had spoken about for years, as I hurriedly discussed Italian unification of the mid 19th century. Yet, here I was, far away from Greene, New York. I was standing on the edge of the walled old city of Cagliari, having my first glance at the Mediterranean Sea. The white granite arch and stairs looked massive and contrasted interestingly with one piece of scarlet red graffiti. Written in perfect English, were the words “You are my special need.”, centered over a small outline of a heart. It was ugly, it was atrocious. I hate graffiti. Yet, there I was staring. Staring, led to wonder and then I found myself smirking.
Life is all about love, isn’t it? I mean I have wandered this country and this world for months now just watching and pondering and when I have been brave I have asked. I know more love stories than you can imagine, it is an addiction and probably not the healthiest one, but I have promised Tracey, I will not start smoking, so I suppose there are worse things than being addicted to the life stories of love. I have heard stories of three dates leading to a move to Italy which then led to a thirty year marriage. A marriage that still brings a glimmer to her eye as she speaks of him. I have heard stories of abandoned love. Love that makes a person's heart literally moan when watching the movie the Notebook. Yes, love is a powerful thing.
The girls from Via Mose were in Sardinia and this tiny sentence scrawled on beautiful white granite sparked a game of “Would you rather?” that would leave most of us with tears in our eyes. Each of us knows a little bit about heartache. Sonja and Amy have both lost their beloved fathers. Fathers that they LOVE. The kind of Fathers you dream about having. The ones that read the paper in the corner of the living room. The kind that show you what the world has to offer. The kind of father that is a harbor in the vast ocean. A father like mine.
“Would you rather have loved and lost? Or never really known love at all?” Sonja posed this cliché of a question. A question we have all heard the answer to a thousand times. Yet, her voice was far away, and her eyes glistened while dancing on the horizon.
“The obvious answer is of course love. Who would we be, if we hadn’t had those amazing people in our lives?”
“But sometimes it is just too much. Too much to have to go on without him. My Dad was so amazing that sometimes I wonder when the pain will actually stop? Then I think it just would be better to not know what I was missing.”
“I am not sure the pain ever stops. I can remember times when my own Mother, after a couple glasses of wine would find that tears easily came, missing her own Dad. And it had been twenty years. I think in many ways it will always be hard. But, think of this… Do the people we really love ever go away from us? Aren’t they always there? Aren’t they always right there with us?”
Can’t you feel them? Sometimes? Most times, I feel like they are right there next to me, nestled deep in my heart. I mean, wasn’t my Grandmother there in the lone yellow tulip when I was going to get a divorce? Can’t I feel my Mom’s love in every dew filled spider web I see? Don’t I, too, send love out to countless people on the evening and morning stars? The answer for me is yes! My choice, my choice is love. I shall pick love every time. What else is there really? Impermanence, and who really wants to contemplate that!
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