Anna Would Have Loved Italy . . . Sort Of

15 10 2015

Timberley and I celebrated our twentieth anniversary earlier this year. We were married January 7. But January is a horrible time to travel, unless you are going to Patagonia or Tasmania, so we waited until now to make our trip. (That and we thought we would wait on our trip until Sam had left home for college. That part didn’t quite pan out. We get to enjoy Sam for one more year!)


We had known for some time that we wanted to go to Italy together. We had been several times in the past and had thought it would be a very romantic place to spend an anniversary. It was. We stayed in Florence and a few days in Siena. Everything about the trip was wonderful.


One day as were walking through Florence, we were faced with the artwork from the Medici family. I think we were perhaps seeing a statue of Lorenzo Medici (Lorenzo the Magnificent). My thoughts went to Anna and her love of the Renaissance. Then I remembered the names of all her children that she planned on having. (Without having a husband, but that was another story.) It seemed that all of her names were Italian or pseudo-Italian. Salvio and the like.


As we walked through the street that day, I said to Timberley, “Anna would have loved Italy.” “I know,” she replied. “She would loved everything about this.” I thought for a moment and said, “But I guess that where she is now, she would probably think that Italy was not much to see.” Timberley said that it is easy for us to lose our focus and proper perspective on things. We can only see what we see. We don’t see what Anna sees. We have our experiences here, and we can only focus on missing Anna. We make the assumption that Anna is missing what we are experiencing without her. But the situation is really reversed, isn’t it. We are missing what she is experiencing.