As a Tour leader here in Italy, I get to meet heaps of interesting people from the States and from the UK. The British group find me rather peculiar; I am a “yank” whose mother is Central American and I’m living in Italy. I get a slew of the same questions every time:
You look Italian.
How long did it take you learn the language?
What’s the best part of living here?
Do you think you’ll move back?
What do you think of Trump?
What do you miss most?
Let’s jump to the last question, as I found it to be the most provocative; . . . from home? Hmmmm. That question caused me pause as many people often say “family, or food, or festivals.” I found myself reflecting on what I missed most. Definitely my daughters, my ex-husband, and my son-in-law. I miss my daughter’s chickens, my “grand-chickies.” I miss the variety of foods available from living in a nation born of immigrants. I don’t miss any holidays.
But I miss other intangibles like the ability to use the language (English) to make a statement; make an impact. I miss weaving the words to draw a picture for my listener. I miss the intimacy my language allows me to create.
I miss knowing the system (all systems – banks, government, school, renting a home, etc). I miss getting answers. I miss businesses mostly caring about the customer.
I miss the Pacific NorthWest’s commitment to sustainability. Locally grown, farm-raised, organic food. I miss the options to support this movement.
I miss being respected for my independence, not being viewed as an odd (and uninformed) female. I miss knowing what I can do/say and what I shouldn’t do/say.
Sometimes I miss not thinking about the life I’m living. . . sometimes. Most of the time I love this life that I have chosen. I do wish it wasn’t so difficult to figure out. But there is a saying that says (roughly), “nothing worth doing is easy.”
And, I miss sharing this experience with someone. I guess this goes back to my family. I miss them the most.