hello from the other side

um, hi.

we are on the last full day of our 14-day voluntary self-quarantine after returning to the US from Rome. and as we have spent the past two weeks hunkered down without stepping outside, relying on our fantastic friends and family to deliver groceries to us, we have watched the insanity continue to mount around us. it's hard to believe that my post about Lenten observances in Italy was written within this same month, let alone in the same year. like pretty much everybody else i know, our world has been turned upside down by the COVID-19 virus and it's difficult to imagine a time when we didn't know it was coming.

but we didn't. at least, we didn't anticipate how directly it would impact our lives. i remember specifically the day that i first heard the NPR Up First news summary podcast mentioning the outbreak in Wuhan. the podcast was released on January 21, and described "international concern" over this new virus. i listened to it on Friday, January 31 while going out on a solo expedition around Rome while Nick stayed home with the girls on his day off. i had quite an ambitious sightseeing list: first to visit the Catacombs of Priscilla, a burial place used by early Christians in the late second to early fourth century (no photos allowed, but it is incredible -- highly recommend). next i got some pizza al taglio (by the slice) at a little shop and, since the mood of the day was distinctively "treat yoself", i opted to wash it down with a... wait for it... Corona.

i can't remember whether i realized the irony of this at the time.

next, i took a bus over to Villa Torlonia, the estate and grounds built for the Torlonia family in the 19th century. in addition to the main villa, the property includes the whimsical Owl House, which was the main residence of the Prince Giovanni Torlonia until his death in 1938. the family donated the villa to Mussolini in 1925, for which he paid the symbolic rent of 1 lira per year. at one point during his residence, Mussolini hosted Gandhi here, a meeting for which i would have loved to be a fly on the wall. 

the main villa

the ballroom of the main villa

the owl house

owl motifs abound throughout the entire house

the next stop on my list was what had been billed as the closest thing to an American-style thrift store in Rome: Affare Fatto Mercatino Usato, near the Colosseum. prior to this, the only "thrift" stores i had found were more along the lines of vintage consignment. this was a veritable treasure trove.

be still my heart!

i limited myself to these three items that would be easy enough to transport back home:
an adorable decorative Mokapot, an actual travel mug so Nick wouldn't have to carry ceramic
mugs back and forth to his office, and these fat little salt and pepper shakers.
 all for a grand total of €10!

Segway tours will never not be hilarious to me

my next stop was something that's been on my to-do list practically since we arrived in Rome: visit the library! i specifically wanted to check out the children's library in central Rome, near Campo de' Fiori, to see if they had any English books. first of all, look at how perfectly Roman this building is, from the ivy crawling over the balcony to the ape truck parked out front.

lingua straniera - that's what i want! they had a decent selection of books in English,
German, Spanish and French. 

score!! 

my last stop of the day was to the Galleria Spada, a small collection of art housed in a 16th-century palace, which was bought by Cardinal Spada in 1632. Cardinal Spada then commissioned Borromini to make various improvements to the palace, most famously an optical illusion in the garden in which a gallery lined by columns appears to be more than one hundred feet long with a lifesize sculpture at the far end. in reality, the gallery is only 26 feet long and the sculpture stands two feet high.

the courtyard of the palazzo

Borromini's optical illusion

 leaving the palace, i was greeted by this master of the house who seemed none too pleased with my intrusion.

 then finally, on the way back, i had to stop for gelato. much to my dismay, Frigidarium was closed for the off-season, so i settled for the gelateria across the street. i mean, there's really no such thing as bad gelato.

looking back over these pictures, i am hit with so many feelings at once that it's almost impossible to pick them apart: nostalgia, grief, thankfulness, disbelief, resignation. in a way, i'm glad i didn't know exactly what was coming. remembering that day also means remembering a time when the impact of this virus hadn't hit yet. we knew it was out there and that likely it would spread, but we had no idea that less than a month later, it would be wreaking havoc in northern Italy.

i'm so grateful for the incredible visit we had with Mom and Auntie Kris during the last two weeks in February; just hours after they left Rome, on February 29, the US state department raised the travel advisory for Italy to Level 3 (reconsider travel). i'm so sad for our friends who had already purchased tickets and arranged time off work to visit us this spring.

i'm grateful for the foresight Nick had to already be working on a contingency plan for the girls and i to return to the US, for the seminary faculty who were so understanding of our situation and for the flight we were able to board just shy of 24 hours after learning that all of Italy would be locked down. i'm sad that we had to leave most of our things behind (including my box of nonperishable food and supplies of toiletries, toothpaste, and oh, yes, toilet paper!).

the moon rising over the chapel on March 10, the night before we left.
i took this picture standing on our terrace. 

i'm grateful for the technology that allows us to stay in contact with Greta's teacher and classmates. i'm sad that she and Cecilia are missing the last few months of their Italian immersion education, and especially for Greta missing her beloved ballet class with her incredible instructor.

i'm beyond grateful for the time we had in Rome. it would have been amazing had it lasted for only a month, or a year. i'm still sad that we can't enjoy the last few months there to the fullest, as we had planned.

i'm grateful for the seminarians, deacons, fifth-year priests, sisters, and faculty at the college. i'm sad especially for the deacons set to be ordained later this spring, who are missing these last months of fellowship with their fellow seminarians and whose plans for these celebrations may need to be modified or postponed.

i'm grateful that we have a place to live, an entire garage full of stuff, everything to cover our material needs. i still get anxious thinking about what fresh hell we may all encounter next month as the economic ramifications of this really start to kick in. (here's an excellent article my friend Khai shared addressing the sense of anticipatory grief many of us currently feel.)

i'm grateful for my friends and family who are on the front lines of medicine. i'm sad that i can't actively practice again here myself yet (although hoping that will change soon!). and i'm saddened and angered by the inadequate preparation and response by hospital and government administrators to provide the required PPE and testing materials.

i'm incredibly grateful for creative priests who come up with ways for us to safely join in worship, both through technology and through drive-up confessions and Eucharistic adoration. i'm so sad not to be worshiping in person with the seminarians or at our home parish here, and so sad not to be receiving Jesus in the Eucharist.

i'm grateful that all four of us have been feeling completely fine. i'm sad for my friends both locally and in Italy who have confirmed cases of COVID-19, and for those who have suspected cases but can't get tested.

i'm so grateful that friends and family have generously given us tons (i mean, literally, probably close to one thousand pounds) of books, DVDs, games, books, art supplies, craft projects, and toys to help occupy the girls. i'm sad that we can't take them to the zoo or to the playground or to Phipps or to the library.

bonus: lots of those toys turn out to be great fun in the tub

i'm grateful for our journalists and the technology that makes it possible for us to stay up to date with breaking news reports and all the statistics for affected countries. i'm frustrated by the clickbait headlines and sensationalism that drive mass hysteria and can worsen anxiety and counterproductive behavior.

i'm grateful for FaceTime and other technology enabling video calls with family all around the country, remote play dates, and even a fantastic virtual double date last night with Amelia and Ryan. i'm sad that we're back in the US and yet we still have to rely on screens to connect with the people we love.

the screen on the top right shows James giving us a virtual tour
of his machine shop, which is still open as an essential business!

well, i could go on, but that's about enough for one afternoon. we're taking this one day at a time because, literally who knows what tomorrow will bring? right now, i'm just grateful to have made it through to day 13.

made by one of Cecilia's preschool classmates