500 years

And so I am home. Home from a city filled with history. Home to a place filled with my history. The dirty dishes, the laundry piled every which way, the newspapers scattered about, to help me reconnect with my life here. And the mess, well it is comfortable, it is my mess, my place filled with love and life.

Florence was amazing, the art, history, language, colours were all amazing. but sitting having coffee with my daughter is so very very lovely. i caught her up with me, she caught me up with her, and we made plans for tonight: shopping, movies, supper.

I did it, I took trains, and planes. I ordered food in restaurants where the menu was all in another language. I walked. I walked and walked, and climbed and kept going one foot in front on another. In short, I did it! I am feel strong and proud.

So I kept breathing, breathing life, into every moment. I wasn't afraid. I wasn't afraid. That, for me is saying alot.

And now I continue to look forward. To that quiet sleep in my nineties. I have so much to do still, so much to learn. I look forward to ellen and kyle's stories. My stories, brian's stories. So many stories....and still, so many years. Like those frescoes in the San Marco monastery some part of me will still be here 500 years from now. 500 years from now, I will still be here.