It’s two months I’ve been back, and you still haven’t seen many photos or read many stories from my trip. Why? Because I haven’t been able to neither look at the photos nor recall the days we spent in paradise. It has been too painful.
The first weeks back here I felt angry, resentful towards Sweden (mind you, it rained for 16 days in a row after we came back!) and to think back at Italy was like dripping lemon juice on an open wound.
I steered away from anything Italian. I stopped listening to the music, I stopped reading the books, I stopped checking in on my favorite blogs. I tried to pretend that it wasn’t there anymore and that it had nothing to do with me and that the photos weren’t there. It worked, in a way, because I stopped feeling so angry and began to actually feel happy and grateful for what I have here.
Self deception is my middle name. A photo or a song was all it would take to bring all the pain back to the surface. I was fine as long as I stayed away from it all, but how could I stay away forever from something that is such a big part of me?
The healing process has come further now, and I am slowly beginning to review the photos. I still can’t look at the shots from Amalfi without that lump of tears in my throat, but I am taking it slow. I portion my memories, bring them forward one by one in bitesizes. I don’t have to look at those photos just yet, there are so many others. Pisa, Siena, Positano, Ravello, Vietri sul Mare, Capri, Ercolano… so many beautiful memories, and they all make me smile.
Like these photos of the littlest car I’ve ever seen. I had to put Alexander next to it as a reference. Seriously, it was so small that I wanted to pick it up and bring it back home with me. I bet I could have carried it.
To you, they are photos of a white Fiat and an 8 year old boy.
To me, they are sun and heat and a long sweaty walk along the winding Amalfitan coast road. They are the chirping of cicadas, the honking of the buses and the flipping and flopping of our flipflops against the ground. They are the dog that walked with us, the breathtaking sight of Positano in the distance, the tiny beaches far down below. They are chatter and laughter and togetherness.
Happiness.
Nice comparison, a little car and a little boy!
I know how you feel Annika.
I return from Positano already planning the next trip in my head – Nov. then Xmas… But something comes up and pops the ideal dream bubble and that’s when I really start to miss it.
HI Annika – just thought I’d tell you that I once drove from Rome to Venice in one of the cinquecento – it took me about a week to straighten out afterwards!
Annika seeing this photo brings me to the same emotions you are feeling!
I’ve got a photo of myself in Rome standing next to the same little car!
I understand you perfectly: I just came back from my country, after a few years of no visiting my friends and it’s so painful just to recreate the memories in your head. Hang in there, life is full of surprises.
Oh Annika-I truly understand where you’re coming from. Some times I lie awake at night and think “How can I get back to Italy? Is there a way I could just go tomorrow?”. Looking forward to more of your photos and hearing of your adventures.
Hey Annika, pleased to meet you. I’ve seen your comments over at figs and lemons (now and in its former life!). I just wanted to say I can understand exactly how you feel. I used to be the same way after every trip we had to Italy. I love the description of what you see when you look at that photo. You will be back I’m sure.