My final night in Rome and in Europe for this trip. It is raining. It is Boxing/St. Stephen's Day. I am content and restless. How does one stay in the moment when one knows it will all fade so quickly!!? Yes, I still muse like a teenage diarist! But I know the taxis of New York and my life there will erase this place and though photos will be evocative, I will still doubt them.
Do I want to defect? No. But Paris and Rome are such powerful places and you know their histories are part of your own somehow and I leave feeling inadequate and humbled and a little stupid. Oh and obese. And somehow I don't think I will read Cato and I feel the stress of that not bothering me like I think it should.
But tonight as I walked through this piazza which is David's piazza as he lives right off of it and I have shared this place with Brian and Tricia on past trips and David on many trips and I thought as we got gelato and walked by this fountain from 1472 still spewing water, that this moment is the history and all the Caesars and Augusti and Napoleon's mothers before me did not have this and should I choose to be overwhelmed then I miss this exact moment in the piazza with a really incredibly dear, dear pal whom I have only grown closer to and I will miss more than all faded empires before me.
Grazie e Auguri Roma.
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