elmerissa-blog

[elmerissa-blog]

"The two most important days in your life are the day you are born and the day you find out why." –Mark Twain

[elmerissa-blog]

I said that I would be back.  

The last time I wandered in Italy, I traveled with 40 students, parents, and teachers.  My visions of leisurely sipping my espresso at a sidewalk cafe in Venezia had been replaced by a quick-paced walking tour of each city and a blur of too many cathedrals and historical facts. I longed to linger in the outdoor markets in Sienna but had been rushed to make my purchase of local leather goods, lest I be left by the tour guide.  The museums in Florence beckoned for me to wander in its ornate halls, but, I had to make do with just a mere hour of perusing the great works of art….So I promised myself that I would be back.  

It has been 8 years and I have not returned.

A life of raising children…fulfilling others’ dreams…family trips...Those reasons I have not regretted.  But, I often look back through my pictures of Italy taken with my simple non-SLR camera and I have pangs of regret.  Regret that I did not relish each moment of my travel such as the dampness of the rain as we trudged through the cobbled streets, the taste of a simple salad with fresh olive oil, and the sound of 40 people loudly talking in a bus as you try to sleep. 

Etch each experience deeply in your mind.  Because, well, you may never go back as you promised yourself….

[elmerissa-blog]

It had always been difficult to penetrate the barrier that separated us from First Class.

Michael Ondaatje “The Cat’s Table”

[elmerissa-blog]

Snow in June is what we found on our hike at the Banff National Park.  The air is crisp.  I huff and puff as my 26 year old son and his wife pass us up quickly up the hike to Lake Agnes.  At 50 something, I should not be huffing and puffing.  I used to be in shape.  I used to hike up to 10,000 feet and not struggle.  This is only a 3 hour hike.  But that is what life can do--if you allow it to.  The things you once enjoyed like the outdoors, you now find you have no time for.  

We find the Tea House and it is full of hikers and tourists.  Usually, I have no patience to wait, but I do.  I sit quietly on a wooden stool, waiting for a table to open up.  There is a group of young European girls starting to shift in their seats.  I see them putting their gloves on.  I walk over and ask if they are leaving.  They are, so I quickly sit down.  My years of “going out” in my younger years are paying off and I know how to make my “move” to snag a table.  The young girls are from Germany and Nova Scotia.  Their eyes light up when we say we are from San Diego.  I tell them I found Germany beautiful and the German girl beams with pride.  Their friendliness catches me off guard.  Maybe I have grown cynical and wary living in southern california?

The earl grey tea comes piping hot in a tea kettle.  Somehow, it tastes better at 7,000 feet.  The homemade apple crumble is tasty and we share it.  Our conversation lags and perhaps, we are just enjoying the moment of being there, in a a clear lake with snowcapped mountains, in a log cabin, in the crisp, cold air.