A Fortunate Woman

“I thought it would be bigger,” the voice rang out from the crowd.

“Not good enough for you, dear?”

I held in my laughter as I snuck a look at my husband to see if he heard the back and forth as well. His twinkling eyes told me he had.

“Some people are never happy,” he whispered in my ear.

“I’m happy. Very happy.”

I looked around the square hardly believing my eyes. Always number one on my bucket list was the trip to Italy. So often had I spoken about it that I had channeled the voice of Charlie Brown’s teacher “whomp, whomp, whomp” as those around me had tuned me out. 

“I’m thinking about a Mediterranean cruise,” I had said to my son.

“I’m thinking about Mediterranean food,” he replied. “Let’s go get some hummus.” 

It was no wonder that I stood in front of the Leaning Tower of Pisa in awe, for it was a long time coming. I looked around taking it all in, fighting the urge to pinch myself for the umpteenth time. I knew better than to pinch my husband as it hadn’t gone well while sipping our cappuccinos earlier that morning.

Our tour guide shared stories and dates in history, which fell around me like confetti on New Years Eve. Not having much of a knack for history, I was more intrigued by being immersed in local culture. The silver boots and pink lipstick, not to mention the Italian accent, mesmerized me as our group hung on her every word. I followed along through the tour of Cathedral Square snapping photo after photo with hopes to organize a scrapbook upon my return home.

The tour ended too soon, returning us to the entrance of the plaza. We had ninety minutes to explore on our own before boarding the bus to the vineyard. The anticipation of an authentic Italian meal and wine tasting teased me, but I forced it out of my mind. It was important to stay in the moment and enjoy Pisa.

“Ciao ciao,” we called out as the group dispersed. Waving my hand, I made sure to catch the eye of the tour guide.  “Graci,” I mouthed to her. She smiled before disappearing into the crowd.

I clutched my purse in front of me to dissuade the pesky pick pocketers whom we had been warned of repeatedly. “Keep walking,” the bus driver had said. “Don’t make eye contact and just say no when they approach you with hats and bags for sale.” It was good advice.

Careful to get our bearings, we organized our left from right keeping our starting point in mind.  With only ninety minutes we didn’t have a moment to spare being lost in fear of missing the bus. When feeling secure, we began our meandering, giddy with excitement.

“Hun, take a picture of me holding up the tower,” I handed Carl my phone then arranged myself with hands upright. I braced myself against its mighty imaginary weight while he found the perfect angle to capture the image.

“My turn,” he laughed as we switched positions in front of the iconic tower. 

“Let’s check out the cathedral,” I turned around pointing across the lawn.

Feeling the sun beat down on me as we crossed the square I again thought how fortunate I was. It was important to make the time to enjoy. If we waited for all of life’s puzzle pieces to arrange themselves perfectly, we would be waiting forever.

I was pleased that the crowd respectfully walked around the perfectly manicured lawn rather than across it. The vibrant green of the grass made the scene even more picturesque, in sharp contrast to the muted tones of the tower. 

Reaching the cathedral we gasped at the stunning detail.  I placed my hands on the exterior with my palms flat to feel the coolness of the limestone, storing the memory in my mind to revisit later. Entering through the massive doors, we fell under the spell of the serene, majestic beauty. The row of huge columns on either side drew my eye up to the intricate ceiling, the details astounding.

While my husband explored every inch of artwork and architecture, I sat in the last pew taking it all in.  My mind suddenly drifted to my daughter and her little boy, my first and only grandchild. I said a silent prayer for them.  May she find the strength to get through the nasty divorce and custody battle. A tug of war over a five year old boy was heartbreaking, with Tyler being the one who suffered the most. He deserved better. 

“How can we make sure Tyler has the best possible life?” I asked with tears threatening to spill as we left the cathedral.

Carl looked at me, surprised to find my mood had drastically changed. “We can love him,” he answered gently.

The buzzing of my phone’s alarm interrupted the start of our emotional conversation, reminding me that our excursion was almost over. Ninety minutes was not enough time to explore the grandeur, I thought, wishing for more time. I looked around frantically to see what we had missed.

“Let’s go pick out some gifts,” I took off with a brisk walk to the furthest corner of the square with Carl following closely behind. We passed outdoor cafes with horse and buggies parked on the cobblestone streets. I turned to the row of markets with souvenirs spilling out for the eager tourists.

“Hun, look,” I laughed with delight, “Pinocchio!”

“Fifteen euro,” the aggressive vendor took the marionette off the rack, handing it to me. Recalling the well-loved story took place in Tuscany explained the vast selection of Pinocchio merchandise on display.

“For Tyler,” Carl said.

“For Tyler,” I agreed. Our precious grandson was more than a pawn in a bitter divorce; he was a real boy, a strong boy. 

The vendor wrapped the gift carefully and with a warm “graci” we added it to our already full bag of goodies.  

I will buy him a new copy of Pinocchio upon our return home, I decided. We’ll snuggle together on the couch reading, then pop some popcorn for movie night. I bet we still had the old DVD somewhere. 

I was indeed a fortunate woman, I thought again, as Carl and I boarded the bus for the vineyard. 

***

“Tyler, give your grandmother a kiss.”

“Mom…” the boy wailed, embarrassed. “She doesn’t even know me.”

“Of course she knows you. I tell her stories about you every time I visit. She loves you.”

“She never even met me. She’s been in that stupid coma my entire life.”