Ciao Bella

There are two pictures hanging in my house.  One hangs in my room, my then one-year old daughter, Sienna, expressing pure delight and joy. The other hangs in my living room and it is a photograph taken of "The Steps" in the piazza of Cortona, Italy.  

The second photograph is special for a few reasons.  One, it was a wedding gift.  Two, the photographer and gift-giver is Al Hurley.  My history with the Hurley family began the day I was born, they played a huge role in my life, and they are forever friends.  

The third reason is the location.  The steps of Cortona, Italy, are where I fell in love.  

When I was fifteen years old, my beloved Uncle Albert and Aunt Susan invited me to go to Italy with their family for three weeks.  Their excuse for inviting me?  So I could help watch the kids, of course.  The real reason?  They wanted to give me the gift of an unforgettable experience.  

In July of 1999, Uncle Albert, Aunt Susan, 77 year-old Great-Uncle Henry, 7 year-old Olivia, 3 year-old Albert Joseph, and I embarked on an Italian adventure.  As you can imagine, with such a wide variety of ages and people, the trip was far from perfect, but it remains one of the most extraordinary experiences of my life.  

You see, we didn't get to Italy, and then spend 2 nights in 12 cities.  We arrived in Cortona at the most charming, exquisite, rustic, Tuscan farmhouse you could possibly imagine.  We unpacked, we settled in, and we made it our home for the next three weeks.  

Our first meal was prepared by a radiant Italian woman.  I was tasting flavors and eating dishes I never knew existed before.  Nearly every night, we ate beneath a grape-vine entwined trellis on a stone table that had been in that exact spot for who knows how long.  It was culture shock of the best variety.  

Almost everyday I walked in to the town of Cortona, feeling as independent as I've ever felt.  I would sit on the steps in the center of the piazza watching the people of this small town, listening to their unfamiliar chatter, and basking in the wonder of it all.  

We would take day trips to places with beautiful names like Monticello, Montepulciano, Parma, and Siena (yes, that's where "Sienna"s name comes from), but always coming back to our Cortona.  

As I write this so many images are flooding my mind, but I am struggling to find the words.  My simple writing can not do my memories justice.  

On one of our last evenings, Uncle Albert and I took the now-familiar path in to town.  We sat on the on the steps of the piazza, had a glass of wine (even me), and talked and laughed and watched and learned.  

At the end of three weeks, I was devastated to leave.  Cortona felt like home.  I felt the town had adopted me as one of their own.  As the car pulled away from the stone walls, I cried, but I vowed to come back. 

I had fallen in love.  I fell in love with Italy.  I fell in love with Italian food.  I fell in love with gelato.  I fell in love with Cortona.  I fell in love with lavender.  I fell in love with piazzas, and I fell in love with those steps...the steps that made me less ignorant, less naive, and more curious, more passionate.  

I've been back twice, gratefully, but I hunger for more.  Every once in a while, I have this overwhelming desire to just pick up and go...this feeling that I NEED to go...this urge to be there in my special place on the steps of the piazza...this overwhelming rush to slow down and experience life, culture, adventure, life-changing food...to stop and smell the lavender.  

Until then...Ciao, Bella.