Making Memories

It's an usually cold day in Los Angeles and back in Boston, the weather has been just as horrendous - and it's only December. There are so many more months left to winter that thoughts of summer seem very far away, and our trip to Italy is like a beacon through these shortened days of the season. This month, the memories of my Italian grandparents is always so vivid. As a young boy, I loved Christmas and it was one of the rare times my dad's mother and father came upstairs. I was always in their first floor flat, trying to catch them speaking Italian, but it never failed that English was always the language spoken when I was in their midst. The winding staircase leading up to our living room was a bit treacherous if you weren't holding tight to the railing (just ask my mom about her broken wrist for proof), and my grandmother would move slowly up the stairs calling out both my brother and my names. She'd usually go through the entire list of grandchildren, but since my cousins lived across the street, she knew that we were the only ones in the house on Christmas Day. Those memories of the two of them sitting on the couch and watching us open presents are some of the best moments of my childhood.

I didn't know then how precious memories would become to me or how little time I had left with my grandmother. If I did, I would have made more special times for the two of us. I'm extremely blessed that my mom is healthy, active and willing to travel the world. I doubt she'd want to go on a safari, so the European capitals can remain on our list of places to visit. What matters most to me is making those special times that will live forever. This year-2010- has been one full of wonderful moments and at times, one of loss and heartbreak, but in both cases, what matters most are the memories. At times of loss, they've pulled me through and just sitting back and remembering has made me smile. This holiday season as the cold weather assaults the east coast and what I now consider cold makes me flee to the desert - it's the anticipation of what's to come that gets me through it all. Seven months from now, I'm going to have more memories with my mother that will get me through many days of dark and wet winter months to come. And all because I'm not content to wait for good things to happen - I'm going to make them.

The Birds

The winter may be creeping up on my mom in Boston, but for me, I have escaped to my oasis from Los Angeles: Palm Springs. Today is an official work holiday and I'm so grateful for those since I'll be using my two weeks vacation in July when we go to Italy. Driving the two hours to get here is second nature to me now and I'm always hungry when I get here, so I stopped at one of my favorite restaurants. Hamburger Marys is half outdoor seating and half in and it was quite crowded today, so I opted to sit near the bar. Halfway through my meal, in it flew. The little sparrow, alas, not related to Edith Piaf and memories of Paris. Immediately, the memory of my grandmother came back  as vividly as if it were yesterday. Birds indoors were bad omens, they belonged outside, not under the cover of one's roof. I can still hear her yelling for my grandfather, or maybe it was my dad since they share the same name.

"Alfred, the bird," she cried at the top of her lungs. "The bird. Get the bird out of the porch!"

Our covered front porch was a haven for the nasty flying rodents. I'm not sure how long that particular bird managed to hold onto its perch, but I will never forget the superstitions that came along with it as it flapped its wings in the house. So you can imagine how much fun it was to go to Venice all those years later and see how pigeons ruled St. Mark's Square. I don't know how my mom will react to so many winged creatures - after all, she used to take my brother and me into Boston and somehow foolishly, we fed the dirty pigeons as they crawled all over us seeking nourishment.

Today, however, the sparrow did not stay long and I got to enjoy my meal. Now there are quite some months to go before I have to face the swarm of birds that overtake the Venice square, but one thing for sure, I won't allow Rosemarie to let me feed the birds.

Top Models in Italy

One of both my mom's and my favorite guilty pleasures is watching America's Next Top Model. Crazy screaming girls on even more bizarre photo shoots is always good for a laugh. This cycle -Tyra doesn't call it a season-the "models" in the home stretch are in Italy, all vying for the grand prize of a contract and the cover of Italian Vogue. Beauty shots of the canals, Piazza San Marco and the winding small streets of the city fill the hour. I could comment on the photo shoot of the girls trying to seduce Casanova in groups of three, but I won't go there.

Watching these "beauties" eat, drink and wander around brought me right back to when I walked aimlessly through the streets of Venice, getting lost in its winding paths and bridges over gorgeous canals.

"Oh, I don't want to get lost," my mom said. "Maybe we shouldn't go there!"

So it begins - and it's only November.

Ticket Purchase

Although the clocks are turning back this week and the days have gotten shorter, our thoughts are firmly ticking towards summer as we've bought our tickets to Florence today. I've been checking different airlines, but in the end, came back to United, where we both have Mileage Plus accounts. Though Star Alliance partner Swiss Air would have been a tad cheaper, going through United.com, I've booked us on Lufthansa, an airline that I've always enjoyed flying in the past. We connect via Frankfurt, an airport I remember well when I was sent to Europe on business back in 1995. It was a cold and snowy winter's day and despite the efforts of a handsome and friendly flight attendant who called ahead on my behalf,  I missed my connection to Heathrow. Eventually getting to London, I had to settle for the middle seat in the middle row on a 747 - and my luggage remained somewhere in Germany for a few days before finding its way to my door in San Francisco. I must admit, despite being tired and cramped from my seat location, going through customs without any luggage does make it easier.

My mom, as always, hates the idea of flying but with the two major bookings for our second European tour completed, she can get through the frigid Boston winter knowing that summer brings another slice of the world that much closer.

The First Trip to Florence

I first went to Italy in 1999 during my tenure at the software company, Informix - the firm that first sent me to Europe on business also gave four week sabbaticals after five years of employment. It didn't take me long to decide where to go - and I took off for three weeks in Italy plus a week in Belgium to visit my friend Serge. Back then, there were no laptop computers (yes, I am showing my age), and I took a small notebook with me and wrote about my travels. Today, it's hard to decipher my penmanship. Anyone who knows me well knows that my handwriting is atrocious so I opt for type written words. Maybe it's because my thoughts work faster than my fingers can write.

Today, I was reading parts of what I wrote and what I thought in June of 1999 still holds true today - "I am in love with Florence. It's gorgeous and I want to come back already." Back then, a dear old friend of mine joined me on my days in the city of the Duomo. He was someone I had met nine years earlier at a country and western bar. "If you had told me that the someone I admired nine years go would be with  me in Italy," I wrote, "I wouldn't have believed you. In nine years time where will I be next and who will be with me?" Well, I'll be about three years off that number next year when my mom and I visit. I love planning and looking forward to events. Thinking about all that's ahead will get me through the winter. Half the fun of any trip is the planning, the anticipation and the talking about what you'll do. For me, that's a huge chunk of the vacation. And it's an upcoming vacation like this - one where I can show my mom another city that holds a special place in my heart - that makes working and living so worth it.

Another European Tour - Summer in Italy

The weather may be turning colder, the days getting shorter and the holidays fast approaching, but already my plans are turning to summer and yet another European tour with my mom. Months after our amazing trip to Paris, Rosemarie and I still talk about the incredible trip we had together. In fact, after we returned, I uploaded all 425 photos onto a digital frame and sent it to her. Now, that may have been a mistake, since when she got it, she kept staring at the changing photos for hours. Between emailing and photo watching, her days were full.


As the year progressed, events in my life made me realize how short life truly is  and that every moment needs to be grasped, enjoyed and lived to its fullest. It was during one of these times that I concluded that the time with my mother did not have to be once-in-a-lifetime, but a lifetime of moments that we create together.

"How about we go to Italy?" I asked her.

"I've got my passport, let's go," she responded back. "A world traveler at last."

Deciding where in Italy wasn't too difficult. I have been to the country where my paternal grandfather was born twice and although he was from Ortona in the Abruzzo region of Southern Italy, I fell in love with Florence. Southern Italy, is of course, beautiful, but the crowds and traffic of Rome were no match for what I found in the birthplace of the Renaissance. Without a doubt, this is the place that I want to show my mother, and what better place to stay than in the most charming B&B that hosted my last two visits, Dei Mori. What a good value surprise it was when I discovered that because I was a returning guest, they would give me 15% off the stay if I paid in cash. From here, we will take a day trip to Rome, Pisa, and perhaps an overnight stay in Venice. There will be endless choices in the days and months ahead. Because the television industry won't allow for time off in late spring, our travel dates are July 3 - 13, 2011. With a little creative planning, piggybacking on an NBC business trip to New York City at the end of June will be another good value.

For now, though, the hotel is booked and I've begun looking for the best flights. So far, connecting through Munich seems to be the best route as there are no non-stop flights from Boston to Florence. Although I'd rather make a connection within the United States, I've no doubt that the Germans will be more than efficient in getting us to our connecting flight. Plus, the last time I flew Lufthansa, the flight attendant was pretty damn cute. This is no United with its red nail polished-hanging on to my seniority - helmet hair cabin attendants. We may fly Swiss Air, and who better to get us any place on earth on time than the Swiss?

As the year progresses, there'll be stories to tell - of growing up Italian, of grandfathers and grandmothers (Rosemarie's father of Sicilian heritage, my paternal grandmother's family from somewhere in the Molise region) - but most of all, there will be Rosemarie anecdotes, no doubt the highlight of the trip. I probably, should, at best, leave out the Lithuanian grandmother stories, this is, after all, a tale of going to Italy. If you want to hear about my mom's mother's  husbands, love of vodka (do any of you see a resemblance here?) and South Boston living, I'll regale everyone with a very different blog in another time and place.

So, sit back, enjoy what's to come and when we get to Italy, you'll be along for another spectacular ride.