She's There, I'm Here

"OK, get used to it, Kate."

I don't need to hear it from others, I'm saying it to myself. Constantly. She's there and I'm here. I just need to let it go and quit stressing over every last detail. The phone rings and although I long to hear how wonderful Florence is treating her, I know there will be angst, the necessary rite of passage into a calmer, more settled state. I know she's handling the legitimate complaints she and her roommate have with their accommodations; leaky shower, inconsistent toilet (hate that one), doors off their hinges, lack of storage space and desks for study, no wireless Internet (promised but not delivered until University and pensione come to financial agreement) and probably more. She's savvy and tenacious about these things. But, I just wish she didn't have to deal with this stuff while she's getting settled into a new life, 5000 miles away from home. The advantage of struggle, I tell myself, is the learning and new found independence, the confidence in one's ability to deal that comes from the process. I have to sit back and trust that all this stuff will get worked out. Arghhhhhh!

Living without an industrial strength hair straightener because it fried itself in the outlet (even with a European 220 to 110 converter) yesterday and a suboptimal blow dryer that only works on the low and medium settings is a pain in the ass, I agree. But, where there's a will, there's a way and I'm sure she'll figure this out. Back in my day, I was rolling my hair in huge curlers the size of frozen juice cans on the top of my head and then strapping/wrapping the rest of my wet hair around my head secured with bobby pins every night hoping to awaken to straightened hair the next morning. This misery too shall pass.

I remember (groan) back in my day, launched from home, when hurdles and obstacles of all types came my way. I remind myself that somehow, I made my way and came out the other side. What was different in those days was the relative isolation of one's struggle. No email, no blog sites, and no phone calls (emergencies only and that meant dead or dying). Letters only and I recall editing those considerably, putting a positive spin on my woes so as not to upset. I knew Mom was a worrier and tried not to add to the anxiety by writing about my no-way out, boxed-in scenarios. I used my friends as sounding boards for the day to day miseries of life and for much needed in-the-moment advice. Note to Miss L if you're reading this: I still like to know; you don't need to edit! :)

Looking ahead, D and I are combing the calendar and the roster of our respective obligations to see if we can break free for ten days or so and visit Firenze and surrounding areas. I wish there were just one way to get there and not so many options for flights, routes, and costs (sigh). All the possibilities lead me to second guess everything. I need not over-think this adventure I keep telling myself; just DO IT. We're thinking about late October/early November. Weather wise it won't be the greatest time to visit Italy but the purpose of the visit is way more than experiencing rain, clouds and cool breeze which I anticipate to be a given. We'd have the same in Seattle so what's the difference?

In the meantime, I muse, and write, and read, and clean, and visit Mom and Dad, and eat. Occasionally I sleep. The phone is always close by and I keep adding nine hours to whatever time it is here and wonder what's up in Firenze. She's there and I'm here.