Thunder storms

Well I've been living in Italy now for a few months... and I am slowly finding words and ways of understanding being here. The first months were not easy. I was alone. I didn't speak the language. But mostly, I hadn't figured out a story to tell myself about why I was here.

I had a story in Oregon -- family, friends, mountains, and the Oregon Coast. Born and raised. Understood. It was where everyone knew my name.

I had a story in New Zealand -- creating a home in our new home, building community, planning to adopt a puppy, and finding a way to make my way as an AAC clinician... oh, and the rowing of course!

But here -- the words I found did not sound like me; Words like "trailing spouse" and "engineering student."

But then slowly slowly, I started finding ways to be me... I read what I wanted at school, I showed our first Kiwi visitors the sights, I added tomato to my pesto pasta (to the shock of the locals), I moved the bed so I could see the hills out the window, I laughed at the grammar attacks my roommate and I thrust upon each others' native language, I navigated 2 trips to the ER, and I started to feel the beauty in me again.
And as I did.. I started to be able to see the beauty of Genova, bit by bit, and this strange, old, sometimes grumpy city let herself gradually be revealed.
I still can't see it like some can, but I think I just might with time.