Visiting Verona, Envisioning Home
Life for us is constantly on the move which means even while we are visiting one place we are also trying to plan our next move. With, very literally, a world of options that can be a challenging task. To further complicate things, now we have Rocky dog in tow which means airline limitations bring an end to our typical lazy last minute planning style.
Marko takes me to discover the city of Verona; he having been here before. We also take the opportunity as we stroll the cobblestone streets to discuss what our next move will be travel-wise after Europe. I feel a little bit guilty having my first experience of Italy (one of the countries in the world I have been most excited to see) and simultaneously discussing our departure.
However due to visa restrictions for me we are beginning to feel the pressure of the countdown clock for our time here in Europe; we need to come to a decision and finalize our plans.
I hand Marko the dog leash which is really just a green string after losing his real leash (a hazard of travel) and climb up a lamp post to try and get the best shots I can of the magnificent, ancient coliseum wall.
The sun is striking through the arch, beating down onto my arm as I snap away and my mind wanders for a moment to the sensation on my skin. I take mental note of my arms tone and color in contrast to the blond hair. With two more weeks yet in Italy and another month of sun ahead of us in Spain I try to envision the three of us walking the blue doored streets of Morocco (a potential next destination) but the imagery in my head immediately depicts us as dried up and dusty after too many months in the sun.
I hop down to find Marko with Rocky and a swarm of fans.
Despite the partial clouds, the day is warm.
We head around the corner acknowledging that by the beginning of September we will all most likely be ready for a reprieve from warm weather. Marko suggests that we head to Seattle (my home town). I don’t immediately reply.
If we go back to Seattle it would be for three months and we would stay with my Mother. My brain rolls over the idea. While the plan was always to go back for a visit I don’t feel quite ready; but perhaps after Spain and another month and a half on the move I will (?).
The more I ponder the idea the more alluring it becomes. I can imagine the feel of my Mom’s embrace; the smell of her hair. I picture the soft smile of my Dad and the pin striped shirts he always wears.
We come to a clock tower and the thought occurs to me that perhaps the time is right. I know part of my hesitation is because going back means leaving again. It is almost too strong a reminder of the sacrifices we both make in order to travel like we do; sacrifices that most people are unwilling make.
But it also means savoring what we have. The time in Seattle will be treasured and that is partially due to my time away.
“Yes,” I look to Marko and agree, “perhaps a little bit of familiarity is just what we need.”