Happy Thanksgiving

I am thankful for my wonderful family who has offered me unconditional love my entire life.

I am thankful for the miracle of my beautiful niece who constantly amazes me and makes living Italy even harder then before.

I am thankful for the support and friendship of my parents. I miss them dearly and wish we lived closer. You are always close in my heart.

I am thankful for my sweet cats, Opus and Roscoe, who made the journey to Italy with me. You are my daily slice of American life and for that, I am forver grateful.

I am thankful to live in such an amazing country. Italy is the stuff of dreams.

I am thankful for the friendship and love of the Italian. Every day you remind me, in some quiet way, of why it is I chose to come here. You are worth every moment of homesickness and every tear at the airport. If I could go back in time and do it all again, I wouldn't change a thing.

Wishing you all a wonderful Thanksgiving. Take a moment between the meal and the football games to think about what is you are thankful for.

Buona Festa!

I'm Heeereeeee!

I wish I could give you a good reason for my absence. I made a silly and embarrassing mistake. As many of you know, November is NaBloPoMo month. I thought that NaBloPoMo was National Blog Procrastination Month, but it turns out it is National Blog Posting Month (Procrastination month would be NaBloPrMo). So I thought I was doing a great job at Blog Procrastination only to find out I should have been posting all month! Oops!

So what has been going on with me? A lot! This past month has been jammed packed including (but not limited to) meeting Jackie and Corrie in Parma, a Deep Purple concert in Mantova (I didn't even know who they were), a fun night at our neighbor's photo exhibition which included a fabulous dinner, traditional romagnolo music and dancing, and a "The Commitment" concert at a blues club in Folri (it was great)!

Along with the ups we have had some downs. Opus's snoring problem got so bad that he snored when he was wide awake. We took him to the vet who told us it was either a sinus problem or possibly polyps in his throat. We were told to give an aerosol treatment twice a day for one week. At the end of the week, if he was better than it would mean it was a sinus problem. If he remained the same then there might be something growing in his throat, in which case the vet would have up him under anesthetic and then go in with a scope to see what was wrong. You can imagine how worried I have been, anyone who knows me knows that this cat is like my child. The procedure isn't complicated, but it is never a good idea to put a 12 year old cat to sleep.

So, twice a day I had to mix an aerosol concoction, that required me to mix three different medicines before putting it into his mask. Then I throw Opus into a cage, tie the mask to the cage door, turn on the loud, scary machine and then cover everything with a blanket. It got so that if I so much as looked at Opus, he would run from me in fear of being thrown into his cage. At the end of the week he did sound better. At that time I came down with the mother of all colds. I had a cough that felt like hot glass was being poured down my throat! The pharmacist gave me medicine and told me to take an aerosol treatment twice a day, the very day Opus had finished his last one. I swear that cat snickered when I put the mask on the flipped the on switch!

After two days of aerosol treatments, I was feeling much better but Opus was not. The day after he had finished his treatment, he started barfing.....EVERYWHERE. He didn't seem too upset by the whole deal and would often run to food bowl to "refill"! After two days of this, we marched him back to the vet's. She said it could be an allergy problem or a sort of "withdrawal" reaction from his medicine. We found a fresh, open sore near his ear which convinced the vet he may have been having an allergy problem (the sore being from scratching).

So, what did she tell us to do? Take him off his food for two days! And then added, "If the other cat is this big, don't feed him for two days as well." Big? Excuse me? My cats aren't fat, they are just fluffy (and American).

Can you imagine what our home was like for two days with hungry cats? Roscoe meows and begs when his food bowl is only half empty! He doesn't even like to take the chance that the food might run out. Here is the kicker of the story, the vet gave us special food to buy for the cats (hypoallergenic food). We had to buy it in the town next door because they don't even sell it in our town. And the price? A mere 23 euros for a one kilo bag (that is what, 30 bucks for 2.2lbs.).

And as for Opus? Well, he quit barfing his food up, but during the night he loudly hacks up yellow spit from time to time. So, back to the vet's we go.

Now, aren't you all sorry you asked where I have been? Heheheheheheh!

Be Back Tomorrow

I promise.

A Pizza Party?

What on earth are THOSE CATS up to?

Three Years Ago Today

The hardest thing I have ever done was to move out of America. My wonderful family took me to Chicago's O'Hare airport, the people who have loved me and supported me my whole life. My brother, his wife and my wonderful parents. Words can not express what it meant to have them there to see me off.

They drove three hours with me to Chicago, they helped me drag my bags inside the airport, they stood in line as I checked in my bags and cats; all that was left to do was wait. We sat in the food court with heavy hearts, knowing that it would soon be time to say good bye. I tried not to think about it, but my heart felt as heavy as concrete and my stomach slowly crawled into my throat. Time stood still. Time passed by in a flash.

They say God never closes a door without opening a window, I believe in my heart that this is true. Yet sometimes it is very painful to watch the door swing shut. I was starting a new chapter in my life. A chapter that included unconditional love from a wonderful man, a life in beautiful Italy, and a new home far from my family. I couldn't wait to go, I didn't want to leave.

Saying good bye them at the security check was difficult beyond words. Leaving them wasn't an easy decision; I wanted to live near them and wanted to be with the man of dreams. But life never lets you have your cake and eat it to. I could have stayed there forever hugging my family as we all cried, but I had a plane to catch. We said good bye.

The corridor to my gate seemed to stretch out endlessly. Tears were pouring down my face and felt so alone. I pictured my poor little cats in their cages, frightened and alone. I worried about them. I pictured my family walking back to the parking garage, sad and crying. I worried about them. The tears came faster, all I wanted to do was sit down and catch my breath, but my gate seemed to move farther away like a mirage in the dessert.

I told myself that we would see each other again. That I wasn't leaving America forever, I would be home to visit. But I knew deep down in the bottom of soul that from this moment on, that things would never be the same again.

I knew that saying good bye to my loved ones wouldn't be easy, but I had no idea it was going to be this hard.

Cue sad music....

(I couldn't find the video for this David Gray song. I did find this video, don't worry about the video it is the music that is important).

All Souls Day

"As long we we can love each other, and remember the feeling of love we had, we can die without ever really going away. All the love you created is still there. All the memories are still there. You live on-in the hearts of everyone you have touched and nurtured while you were here".

-Morris S. Schwartz:
Tuesdays With Morrie

To the loved ones who left us behind; you are in my thoughts each sunny morning, in my prayers late every night and always deep, deep inside of my heart.

Love you.
Miss you.
Until we meet again.....

All Saints Day

Today is All Saints day, which got me reading about the saints. I wasn't raised Catholic, but converted in my early twenties. How funny that I ended up meeting an Italian and moving to "the land of Catholicism". So, I never prayed to the saints for anything special. I never celebrated a "Saint's Day" and sure never heard of All Saints Day. So much to learn, so little time.

As I perused the internet in search of information, I quickly came to realize that there seems to be a saint for everything. That revaluation lead to the following question, is there a patron saint of expats? I mean, living in a culture that is not your own isn't always easy. Surly we need a little help from time to time. So I started my research, half joking and half serious. Guess what, there most certainly IS a patron saint of expats. And we have a lot more in common than I would have imagined.

Meet Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini, also known as Mother Cabrini,
patron saint of immigrants.

This ambitious woman was born in the town of Sant' Angelo Lodigiano, in northern Italy. At a young age she felt the calling to serve God, and serve God is what she did. At the age of 18, Mother Cabrini was a certified teacher. At 27 she took her religious vows and became Mother Superior of an orphanage. Several years later, the orphanage closed and so Mother Cabrini, with six other women, founded the Institute of the Missionary Sisters of the Sacred Heart of Jesus (say that five times real fast).

In 1889, the Pope sent Mother Cabrini to work in America. During her years in the States she started no less than 67 orphanages, some of which are still operational today. In 1909 she became a naturalized as an American citizen. She settled in Chicago, Illinois where she continued to do God's work until her death 1917.

In 1938 Mother Cabrini was beatified and on July 7, 1946 she was canonized by Pope Pius XII, making her the first American ever to be canonized. How wonderful that the first canonized American was an Italian immigrent.

So here I am, a girl from the Midwest who moves 5,000 miles from home, spending the rest of my days in Northern Italy. And then you have Saint Frances Xavier Cabrini, a girl from northern Italy who spends the rest of her life in the Midwest of America.



Though the similarities stop there, I can't help but feel that maybe this Saint can understand the problems and trials of immigrant life.