Finito

On our last night in Paris last year, there was a light rain falling as we capped out first trip to Europe together. Tonight, however, with no hint of moisture in the air, we took a short stroll back to La Posta. The city has gotten more crowded and we opted to eat inside to avoid the cigar and cigarette smokers on both restaurant patios.


I suppose we should not have eaten so much, but we have been unable to do that since we first touched down in this country. The bruschetta and olive miste soaked in oil, the tortellini smothered in Bolognese and the crepes stuffed with ricotta and spinach, should have been enough for us. Instead we had, as everyone else does here, the second course. (Yes, I had veal).

My mom and I were quiet at dinner. We’ve run out of things to say, I joked and looking across the table, I wondered if I looked as tired as well. I asked her to name her top five moments from the trip.

“It’s not a test, there’s no wrong answer,” I laughed as she looked as if I were going to grade her.

The David, The Duomo, Crossing the street in Rome, looking at the leaning tower and the Eurostar train rides were all her favorites, though she felt as if she were betraying all the other adventures.

“It’s been so wonderful,” she said to me, and I had us raise our glasses for a toast.

And it wouldn’t have been a dinner without something to look at. The three American families who came in shortly after us were typical ugly Americans. We determined that the trophy wives were here because their husbands cheat regularly on them. Between them, their children ranging from about 15 to 18, took up two tables with the children at one and the adults at the other. We imagined they were from Iowa, but trying to pass as Californians.

The mother of one of the kids continually kept coming over and seeing what they ordered as the kids drank two bottles of wine. Do what the Europeans do, despite the age, we thought.

“He thinks he’s hot shit,” my mom said about the man dressed in white pants and too much hair that you could tell he spent too much time on. His wife had to be the over 40 one stuffed into her white dress.

The group made for an entertaining diversion before we took another late night stroll to try and ease our full stomachs. The streets were packed with vendors selling their counterfeit merchandise, lovers, families, babies - it’s as if more people arrived tonight to bid us good-bye.

We walked as slowly as we had all day. It truly is time to leave, but not before I reflect on what a special opportunity it has been to show Rosemarie all of this. When we return to the states, we have one more memory to make. Eleven years ago, we saw the first Harry Potter together and we will watch the last installment at the very same theater. It will be a full circle moment, one of those silly things I like to mention.

Now, achy, tired and full, with the not quite full moon in the Italian sky, we’re headed back to the bed and breakfast. It’s going to a long walk up those 47 steps to the front door.. I can feel every bone in my body aching and whatever number the scale reflects, I’ll have to work hard to bring back down, knowing that every bite, every conversation, every bottled water, every laugh and every experience in this wonderful country - was worth every bite.