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.
