Enjoying Morning Coffee in America with an American "Venetian"

Can you believe it?! I’m here having morning coffee here near our home in America, and I run into a bunch of “worker guys”, electricians. The sitting area in this cafe, is small, so one of the guys asked to sit next to me and share my table. "Sure, no problem"… as I'm thinking ...this should be interesting :)... I find out the guy’s father was from Bassano…. Bassano del Grappa… where not many people in America know of... where my Mamma was born. This man took up most of the conversation to say that he will never go there, and if his family wants to come and see him in America, that they should do that.

I could NOT imaging life without:

....Walking over the bridge in Bassano, at least once in my life...which thankfully I had that opportunity with my husband in December 2013, and thanks to the gracious hospitality of my cousin and best friend that lives in Bassano.

...Looking at the Ossuary of Bassano - Tempio Ossario, and saluting all of the Alpine soldiers that lost their lives for the good of the people...while admiring the beauty of this building that the people of Bassano made for their beloved Alpine soldiers to be honored, resting in peace.

...Being there, with my cousin, my best friend, and her family... seeing their beautiful bakery....their labor of love..."Panificio Cuore di Pane".

...Meeting the "Mamma" of the hotel we stayed at for a night, "il Bassanello"… who kissed my husband on the cheek for bringing her pastries from my cousin’s bakery.   

But most especially, I have had dreams for 40 years to arrive in Mamma's home town by train. It just happened accidentally. We were supposed to be visiting friends in London, but our flight was cancelled and their was too much fog at the airport...SO I demanded to return to Bassano...but this time by train!

...Arriving in Bassano by train, as I’ve always dreamed of...and telling the lady that owns the cafe at the train station that "Buon Giorno signora, (I am speaking to her in Italian) my Mamma was born right here in Bassano!" The lady gifted us coffee, and we all saluted my Mamma for her birth and her life, wishing her many more happy years of life.

There is nothing that can replace “being there”, in Italy...

It truly is so shocking how different two generational Italians, with family from the same city, can feel about our mother land. Of course, he is entitled to his opinion :)...

The grumpy man that joined me at my table for morning coffee here in America seemed kind of grumpy. He plays the lottery...daily...and wins nothing, but more grumpiness. I can be grumpy too, especially when I am not in Italy :)...

I wait for the time this Christmas when the pilot of our 747 will tip the wing of the airplane so I can see the tan and gold colors of Venice, before landing on Italian soil. THAT moves me... more than any lottery ticket will….may the "lottery" magic of my first son creating his own adventures in Italy...now creating his meaning of our Italian home, begin! :)