Thursday, June 14, 2012


I don't know how it happened.

One minute, I was feeding Alaina in an apartment near San Lorenzo Market in Florence. I was prepared to pack her and Graham up and take them out on the town, like we always do when we travel. The next thing I knew, Steve's mom was holding Alaina and Steve's dad was playing with Graham and they told us to leave. Get out. Leave the children.

I didn't stop to think. I just walked out the door. Hand-in-hand with the love of my life and our best friend and the love of his life.

We blissfully skipped through the streets and piazzas and gelato shops and wine shops. I said, "I need a bottle..." and before I could finish my sentence with "water," the boys said, "Wine. Yep. We need wine."

And, suddenly, there we were. Sipping wine (and water) on the  Ponte Santa Trinitata and discussing politics and how to farm and feed the children in El Salvador. Grown up talk. With no interruptions. And no worries about my child falling off the bridge.

It was a dream. A dream I will never forget.

Thank you, White family. Thank you.

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