My daughter coaches me beforehand on how to hug and air kiss on both cheeks, but her dainty future mother-in-law gives me a bear hug and pets my hair. I’ve learned to communicate by cheating with words I know in Spanish, easily recognized by speakers of Italian. We make small talk over spaghetti and clams, and whole sea bass that my son-in-law carefully bones. We finish with cherries, Nonna’s favorite, and sweet tiramisu made by his dad.
There’s something about trees passing by the window, that makes me forget about yesterday, and live entirely in the moment. Something about the rumble of wheels over track, that lulls me into a dazed stupor of nostalgic thoughts. Or maybe it’s sleep that sweeps over me like a phantom.
Read about a whirlwind trip through Europe, by train.