Luminous
A Catholic Woman and Her Thoughts on Life, the Universe, and Everything
Sunday, April 29, 2007
Many blessings and a lot to think about
Many blessings and a lot to think about

Remind me, next time I decide to take the "journey of a lifetime" - to skip the group tour package deal, LOL - I think my feet still hurt from all the rush-rush/hurry-hurry - and mannnn! You never, ever get enough time to look at anything! And wow.... did I ever find out the hard way that I am NOT on the same wavelength as the average "groupie".... as in ohhhh - that for me, shopping is NOT a recreational activity..... and no, I did NOT miss Dunkin' Donuts coffee, yes, I really did like Greek and Italian coffee.... and yes, I really did want to stick my head into every single solitary church we passed! (And most of them I did manage to peek into, dip my hand into the holy water fonts, and pray a moment or two - and yes, I remembered all your intentions!)
 
So, anyway....

Nat and I are home from our whirlwind tour of Greece and Italy. 10 days of traveling, and seriously moving almost non-stop from Athens to Rome. Our first night in Athens the priest that was with us, Fr. Brian did agree to say Mass for us, in the hotel. I thought we'd have Mass every night, and that was one of the reasons I'd gone on this trip. Unfortunately that wasn't the way it worked out.

We were following the footsteps of St. Paul, as we were vividly reminded very early on, as we visited the Acropolis in Athens for our first day out, and one of the first things we were shown, after we got over gasping at the sheer immensity of just "being there" - was the "Mars Rock" - the ancient Supreme Court site of ancient Athens, which is basically a cliff that juts out over the city - where we were told St. Paul preached to the Athenians. People could go over and climb up - but we didn't have time - and that pretty much set the theme for our trip - things we wanted to do, that we just didn't have time for. A lot of the time we just had too many things crammed in one day to fit in everything, so we had limited time - but Nat and I also began to realize very early on that for us, this was our pilgrimage - and for the others it was just a vacation, or worse, some of the kids flat out told Nathaniel that it was a Spring Break away from their parents to a country where there wasn't a drinking age....

We came off the Acropolis thinking about the faith of a people that would build a fortress that was also their holiest of places. Because the area that hosted the Parthenon wasn't just an area that had the temple and the court buildings, it was also a fortification, with an independent water supply, the remains of huge doors that could be closed in times of war, and it was said that in times of war the people of Athens came up the mountain and literally took shelter behind stone walls with their gods. I never knew that.... we walked around in the hot sun, snapping photos, wandering among the ruins, while workmen cleaned and repaired bits and pieces, wondering about the faith of a people that would cause them to haul huge works of marble up the side of a mountain like this. It's one thing to see it in a book.... but looking out over a cliffside is a whole other story!

We were only in Athens a couple days. Really all we saw were the new Olympic stadium and the Acropolis, and a tiny bit of Athens. We did get to wander a bit and had a lovely lunch in an open air cafe, where we communicated mostly by smiling and pointing, and laughing a lot. I found a lovely icon shop, where they had "museum quality" reproductions - eeeya! and they prices were out of sight! I got out of there fast! Right across the street I saw a tiny shop, with a little old man, and there were strings of wooden rosary beads in the windows, holy pictures on cloth scrolls, and inside, lovely little hand-painted icons and wood-cuts. Nathaniel started to touch something that had bonked him in the head, and the man yelled up at him "No touch! This is not a souvenir shop! This is a holy store!" So Nat retreated to a chair outside, and I stayed. Every time I picked up an item to ask him about it, the man would kiss it, and then tell me about it. He was really very sweet. Actually, everyone we met in Greece was very sweet.

Oh! We did wander into one souvenir shop - sort of by accident - I was looking for a map. Nat ended up buying a chess set with Greek warriors for figures - we replayed the battles of Troy that night - amusing ourselves by naming the characters Hector and Paris, Achilles, and Agamemnon. Of course one of the "bishops" was Odysseus, foxy ol' dude. That evening we went on a walk, and found a lovely little Orthodox church down the road from us - at first we weren't sure they'd let us inside, because it was under renovation, but we went in, and it was so beautiful.

We also went to Delphi, on the next day. Long drive out of Athens. The countryside was very beautiful, but we couldn't get over how much of it was just so darn vertical! Outside Athens it was mostly olive trees and hills, until we got to the tiny town just outside Delphi. It seemed that the entire mountainside at Delphi had been dedicated to worship - and most of the buildings had been built halfway up the mountain. They made a big deal about the "mysterious" visions that were due to the fumes from the rocks and how the seers were high. There were Christian symbols all over the place. In the main courtyard the Romans had built a marketplace, and the early Christians had rebuilt this area into a chapel. In another place, on the side of the pathway, there were lovely mosaics and some ruined walls that were all that was left of the chapel of St. Gregory. We wondered who had been the last person who'd put out the candles, and closed the door on that little chapel, and walked away that last day. Did he know he'd never be coming back? We stood for a few moments, and realized that everyone else was just hurrying by - on the way down the path to the bathrooms and cold drinks. It was about this point that we started realizing that we were seeing different things. Nat climbed to the top of Delphi, where they had an amphitheater and an arena. I couldn't handle the climbing with my knees and my back - so I gave him my camera and sent him off for his "little hike" - which he apparently quite enjoyed.

After Delphi a ferry ride across the Aegean Sea to Bari. We asked Fr. B to say Mass again, after dinner, but he said he was too tired. Later he went down to the disco and hung out with folks for a while. I don't believe he actually said Mass at all for us again, until Sunday evening, when the folks who hadn't gotten to find a church asked him.... He said Mass that night - he actually tried to beg off - but they said "please" b/c they hadn't gotten to a church during the day. We had several meals with him where he didn't say grace. Once he did, that I can recall. Maybe I missed it the other times. He never wore his clericals, except Sunday morning, and then he changed later. It was very strange. One night we went out to dinner in Sorrento, and the waiter called him "papa", and I think, because of the kids, he thought he was my husband! (Ever hear of a priest turning people down, when they asked for a Mass?)

Anyway, we never actually got to explore Bari at all, actually. We were hustled onto a bus, and driven out to a small town out by Capri. The whole little village perched, it seemed on the side of a cliff. Our hotel did too. We were above a little beach, and the kids apparently went swimming, but it was too much for my poor knees. The elevators didn't work, and apparently the rooms were given out randomly. We had gone down 3 flights of stairs, and then up and down 4 more, and around all these twists and turns, up to the very top of the hotel, only to find that we were in a tiny room with two single beds pushed together to make a king-sized bed. I told the tour leader that the room was unacceptable - first off this was my son, not my husband - and second, there was no way I could handle all the steps again, never mind for a couple of days, every time I needed to get from the front of the hotel to our room. The little old Italian lady tried to say that we could just split the beds, and Nat was upset that I was causing a fuss, but I stuck to my guns, and we got a room on the first floor, that had actual separate beds. Phew!
 
That night Nat went out with some of the adults and Fr. B, and they took the train back. They explored a little bit, and Nat poked his head into a church that he took me to the next day. It was dedicated to St. Anthony, but had a beautiful icon of the Virgin and Child behind the altar. We did go back the next evening, after our day at Capri.
 
Capri was.... not exactly as presented to us. I'd been told it was a lovely quiet place where we could relax, sip a cool drink, and just mellow out. In the morning we all took the bus over to Sorrento, and then climbed down the stairs, down the cliff-face, to the docks, where we milled around waiting until the tour guide got the tickets for us to take the little ferry over to Capri. Once there, we were quickly herded onto another boat, where we were given a guided tour of the rock formations around the island, all the little coves, and even shown the cliffs where the insane Emperor Tiberius threw his poor slaves and guests down onto the rocks. There was a grotto where someone had set up a statue of the Holy Virgin that had become battered by the wind and waves, and started to look like a rock formation itself. This part of the morning was very nice.
 
Then  - we were lined up in a very tight bunch, and herded into a waiting area, to catch the tramway up to the other side of the island, up to Anacapri. We were then marched in a group through the streets, without a chance to stop and look at anything, to a garden. Nat and I got very behind the rest of the group, because frankly, I just couldn't keep up. They got so far ahead that finally we just let them go, and I bought us lemon ice's at a cart, and we walked to the garden to see what the big deal was. It was a little shady garden, very formal in style. We finished our lemon ices, enjoyed the view, looked at our watches, and realized that our time was almost up, and rushed back. We'd been told we had to be back down the tramway by a certain time. There was a tiny church at the top of the tramway, but we were afraid to stop in, because we didn't want to be late and get in trouble. When we did get down to the bottom, and found the tour leader, we were then informed that we now had half an hour for shopping. I hate to say it, but I was very upset. I hate being rushed around - and I hate being rushed around even more so that I can be told I have "free time to go shopping". Dear Lord, have mercy! Anyway, we tried to use the time to find an ATM machine, and on our way back to the group, Fr. B came running up to us, we were five minutes late, hurry up, hurry up, everyone else was on the ferry! Nat was very upset, because he'd dropped the t-shirt he'd just bought, and Fr. B wouldn't let him go pick it up, and he was convinced the ferry wasn't going to leave for a few minutes and he'd have time. (but he'd have missed it, if he'd tried, he would have). Anyway, that was when Fr. B snapped at us about how we kept keeping him waiting, and Nat and I started getting almost panicky about being on time, for the duration of the trip. I would set my watch ahead five or ten minutes, and Nat was constantly joking about how "oh good, we aren't last".
 
After the island, anyone who wanted to stay in Sorrento could, and Nat wanted to stay in town, and I promised I'd buy him dinner and get him some "real" Italian food. The dinners included with the tour so far had been pretty mediocre, and fairly "Americanized" - so he was really wanting some "good stuff". He also wanted to take me to that "cute little church" he'd found the night before, the church of St. Anthony.  A lot of people stayed in town, most of them to go shopping, or find "night life". We headed off on our own. We prayed the Divine Mercy chaplet, and lit a candle, and were going to head out, but then this really nice lady realized we spoke English, and we got invited to pray the rosary with a group of ladies from Canada. They were also staying for Mass. It was all in Italian, but it didn't really matter. One lady had a Canadian version of the Magnificat magazine, and we followed along. Nat was funny. Right before Mass, he found a sign that said confessions were available, but there wasn't a priest that could confess him in English! They told him to try the other church across the square - and he ran into Fr. B on his way over, who was apparently really irritated at me because he was waiting for us - he had said that anyone who wanted to join him for dinner was to meet him at such & such a time, and Nat bumped into him about ten minutes past that time, by accident. Nat told him that his mom was at Mass, and really hadn't been planning on meeting up with him, but Fr. B said he'd wait for us. So, Nat raced back to St. Anthony's to find me, all concerned because now he's keeping Fr. B waiting.
 
When Nat showed back up at St. Anthony's and told me, I was so surprised. Mass was almost over, so we finished up, and then went over. When we got there, I told Fr. B that I thought the plan was that if folks wanted to join him, they would, otherwise they were on their own, and I never thought he'd be waiting for us, and explained how we'd been invited to Mass. He was with a group of kids, and was impatient, but what could he say? So, even though we had planned to have an evening on our own, we ended up spending the evening with Fr. B, and a couple of the other folks from the group, a couple of the kids and a social worker from CT. It was ok, but not what we'd planned. We ended up having dinner at a nice little place a distance off the center of town. Everyone had something different, and everyone tried bites of everyone else's. It was all good. Fr. B bought for us all, which was really sweet of him. But he didn't say grace at dinner. I looked at Nat, he looked at me, and we just folded our hands and prayed silently. Fr. B walks really fast too. And if you can't keep up, well, since he's not looking back all that often to see where you are, you're going to lose him in the crowds. Since the streets were usually straight, this wasn't so bad, as long as he didn't turn a corner, or duck into a shop. We almost lost him a couple times, because there were a few things that I did want to see, or take photos of.
 
One thing that was really amusing Nat was how often he had gelato all week long. He commented at one point that he had had more ice cream in one week than he'd probably had all year, back home! Someone told him that Italian gelato was "good for you" since it had less sugar and fat than American ice cream, LOL - and he learned a new word, "fragola", strawberry, LOL, very yummy. 
 
Next we went across the Bay of Naples to Pompeii. From the road at the top of the hill near our hotel, you could see across the bay, were the volcano rose in the distance. They say that it used to erupt every 7 years, almost like clockwork, until the 1940's; but during the last eruption, it collapsed inward on itself, so now they aren't sure when will erupt again. There are 600, 000 people in that area, and they have an "evacuation plan" - but you have to see the area to believe it - they say they will have warning because of earthquakes and chemical changes in the waters, and they could warn people - and that many people still wouldn't listen, and would stay until the last minute, and many would probably die. Nat found this very alarming.
 
We spent the morning in the ruined city of Pompeii. We could have spent all week, and it wouldn't have been enough time. Nat was furious that after the tour we were only given less than half an hour of "free time" to explore and that wasn't enough time to walk to the amphitheater and back to our meeting point - but we did manage to find our way to an interesting house, and also saw the big warehouse where they kept many of the artifacts. The tour was fascinating, and very sad. Seeing the plaster casts of the people who died was so sad. They said that Pompeii was never rebuilt, like Herculaneum was, because the Emperor thought it was cursed, because of all the brothels and loose living there - a kind of Roman Sodom and Gomorrah.
 
After Pompeii, we took a bus around to the other side of Vesuvius, and then we entered what was actually the ancient crater of an even larger volcano, that Vesuvius was only part of. The bus took us about halfway up the side of the volcano, and then we could hike up the rest of the way. A little old man and his little old wife sat by the trail giving out hiking sticks, asking no payment, only "tips on your safe return" - and I found to my pleasant surprise that if you tipped them, you got not only a smile and their gracious thanks, but a beautiful piece of volcanic pyrite too! Anyway, Nat took off with the main part of the group like a mountain goat. This is his thing - he really likes hiking around. I told him not to wait for his ol' beat up crippled up mama, I'd walk as far as I could, and then see what I could see. Well, it turned out that my little bout of being assertive at the hotel did some good. The tour guide finally got it in her head that I had pretty bad arthritis, degenerative disc disease in my back, and asthma, and another lady had asthma, and another guy had twisted his knee in Pompeii - so she got a ride for us. I actually ended up being the only one to take the ride, because they took a long time to get there to get us - but it was well worth the wait! And I found Nat at the top, and we had a great time, exploring the top of the crater, and we heard a presentation by the geologist, and talked to him a little bit. Nat remembered it was his gramma's birthday a couple days after we got back, so he got her a special gift from the little shop perched on the top of the crater. He thought it would be cool to tell her he was thinking of her way, way at the top of Vesuvius! I thought that was sweet. He also got one of those Italian "good luck" horns - which really annoyed Fr. B - he said it was superstitious - Nat said he knew, but that it was fun, and "very lava-y", and just grinned. He doesn't really care if it's "good luck" or not - he just noticed that a lot of "real" Italian men wore them, and to him it seemed like a good Italian souvenir.
 
Lets see.... then what.... oh ya!!! Packed in the bus again, we drove across Italy from the Naples area to an hour past Rome, to our next hotel, and collapsed. This place was great, and we even had a little balcony that looked out onto the sea. Our bedroom was so tiny that we took the television off the desk and put it in the closet so we had room to put the suitcase out! Nat suddenly realized that he hadn't had television or video games in over a week, and he'd barely noticed, LOL. But the room was very comfortable, and I had a reading light right over the bed, perfect!
 
Our first full day in Rome was actually a Sunday, and it was a free day. We were told we had two choices. Sleep in, hang around the hotel until noon-ish, and then head into Rome with the "big" group for lunch and see a few sights - the Trevi fountain, the Spanish steps, and so on. Or..... up at 5AM, downstairs by 6, catch the 7:18 train into Rome with Fr. B, and my understanding was that he was going to try and get permission to say Mass at one of the side altars.
 
"The little group" was apparently suggested by this one family that was traveling together, who'd button-holed Fr. B, and they had a couple of the other kids tagging along after them. Since there were very few people that were going into Rome, I asked if we could join them. I was really shocked when at first the wife acted like she didn't want us to come, and suggested that maybe we could go in on our on, or with someone else. I pointed out to her that this group really was the only group going, and she actually says to me, "well, fine, but no negativity" - I am *still* struggling to figure out what she meant by that one!
 
Anyway - Nat surprised me by saying that he would do anything, including stay up all night, to get into Rome early!  He just did NOT want to waste the day hanging around the hotel all day! Yes, he was a little cranky in the morning, and I guess I didn't help, because I suggested that because it was Sunday, and we were going to Mass, that he not wear a t-shirt. His dress shirts were cotton and short sleeved, and it wasn't hot - and you know what he decided to do??? Silly kid - he decided to put his jeans in his backpack and lug them around all day, so he could change out of his "dress" pants (plain black cotton slacks). 
 
Anyway - We were up and downstairs not only on time, but early. But the family that had "headed" the "little group" to begin with was late. Apparently some sort of major meltdown with the daughter or something. So we missed the train, and Fr. B. couldn't say Mass at St. Peter's. But no one really said much of anything about them being late. Nat really struggled with that, during the hour or so we had to wait for the train. It was really tough on him, the last few days, trying so hard, to be so good, and feeling like every little mistake he was getting harshly reprimanded - but seeing other folks do things like that, and they were seemingly passed off much more gently. I finally told him that I didn't know what was going on, or why it seemed that we seemed to be carrying such a cross - but that we just needed to carry it as best as we could - that this was our pilgrimage, and we were finally here in Rome, and we were going to the heart of Western Christianity this morning, and no matter how we got there, we were going. I told him a story I read, of how St. Francis traveled, to the Holy Land, by begging, and sometimes he'd get turned away, and he would never curse or wail, he just accepted God's will, and one time he asked to go on one ship, and was turned away, but the next ship took him, and later they heard that the first ship was in a terrible storm, and was lost at sea. God's way turned out to be the much better way, after all!
 
In a lot of the great tales, the whole story is taken up by the tale of the journey, very little of the story is what happens to the hero at the end of his travels - Frodo throws the One Ring into the Crack of Doom, and it is destroyed, the Eagles come, and he eventually makes his way home. Maybe our tale had to have all the other stuff first, to make us really yearn for Rome, and make us really understand the words "I thirst" the words of Christ on the Cross. I don't know.
 
Speaking of "I thirst" - that's the motto of the Missionaries of Charity - Mother Teresa's order. I know that out of all the many things I will hold in my heart, one of the sweetest things I saw that morning was a little nun, in a white sari, with blue edging, come out of a little building on the corner right near the Vatican plaza, perhaps to enjoy the quiet of the early morning, see the sunrise, I don't know. I found myself bowing to her, her mission, even in honor of her Foundress. She smiled. Such joy!
 
And then we came around the corner, swept by the rapid feet of Fr. B - who'd lived here at the American College in Rome for five years, and seen all this before - around the corner, through the pillars that open like "mother's arms", right before one of the great fountains in the square. It was quiet, very few people were there, and all I could do was stand there and try not to cry. I looked over, and there rose Michelangelo's dome, and Christ strode before it. There was the beautiful portrait of the Blessed Mother that Pope John Paul II had made after he was shot there - because with all the statues there, he'd looked around, fearing death, and he'd seen our Lord, and all the saints, but looking for our Holy Mother, there was no likeness of her there in the square, so he caused one to be placed there. How odd that no one ever noticed before! 
 
We went in a little side door, and I had thought that we were going to go right inside, but instead we were in a kind of coat-room. Fr. B asked if folks wanted to see the catacombs or climb the cupola, and Nat and I and Peter (the husband) had all really wanted to see the catacombs, and Peter was the one with the hurt knee, and I wasn't good for climbing anything, remember? But next thing I knew, we were going around a corner, and then going UP! And when I asked where we were going, ya, we were climbing the dome..... Apparently this is one of Fr. B's "things" - he likes to climb, he likes heights.... Good thing that by the grace of God I happened to have my inhaler packed in my backpack..... I still had to let three groups of Germans go past me..... and Nat, God bless his heart, stayed with me the whole way! The view from the top of the dome is amazing. There's a walkway, and you can see into all of the basilica, you're right up against the mosaics of the cherubim. But then to get out, you have to keep climbing! Ahhh! One really sweet surprise, we came out on the roof, behind the giant statues of Jesus and the saints. In a little alcove right there by the stairs, not only are there water fountains (yay!) but that's where they hid the bronze bust of Michelangelo's self-portrait - the one with the broken nose! Very neat.
 
Then it was time to go down into St. Peter's. We came in right by the baptistery, and there were people lined up waiting to baptize their children. If you are a resident of Rome, you are entitled to have your child baptized at St. Peter's. The babies were so sweet! Then we looked across the way, and there she was - the Pieta! I just stopped dead. Fr. Brian was talking about something, and I just flat out didn't care. This was my darlin'. I wanted to go stand there and stare for a while. Marble polished to a sheen like satin. Softer than soft. You should be able to take the folds of the Blessed Mother's robe, and crinkle them in your hands. Oh, and His hands.... right there. I just stood and stood. You look at a creation like that, and you really do give thanks to God for the gifts he bestows on some people, and give thanks that those people follow the will of God for their lives.
 
We walked around the basilica like that - stopping, staring, stopping, staring. Whispering to Nat to explain what he was looking at. We agreed to meet up with Fr. B again, but he found Nat and I at one point and told him that the group was all heading off to one of the side altars, but that if Nat still wanted confession, there were some in English - well, hey ya! We thought we couldn't get Mass at the Vatican, but sure, we'd go to confession here, for sure! So we both went! The priest was a lovely man, a Franciscan monk, who, when he didn't have anyone to speak to prayed the Mission Rosary (I saw it in his lap).
 
Well, see what happens when you do the right thing? Right after we finished with confessions, we headed back to our meeting spot - and Fr. B. rushed up to us and told us that we were going to be able to get to go to Mass at St. Peter's after all! He hustled us over, an we got to sit right next to the baldachino, those big, huge bronze pillars that surround the Pope's altar. The Holy Father was out of town, but in marched about two dozen cardinals and a bunch of other priests and about fifty altar servers and choir members, and the place filled up with chanted song and incense. It was wonderful!
 
Mass was almost entirely in Italian and Latin, with a very tiny bit in English. Nat said he didn't care - he knew what was going on, and he said that he could just sit there and "listen and look" for days. My knees almost gave out when we went up for holy communion. I'm not kidding - I got up there, and there I was, standing under that Holy Spirit window, and it just hit me, WHAM.... but I was good, I didn't cry, or stumble, or anything. Just clenched my hands really tightly, and walked very carefully, and said, "thank you God" over and over. And tried to remember every one I promised to pray for.
 
The rest of the day is kind of a blur. We never did get to the catacombs. We walked our feet off - hardly stopped for anything, really. We walked from the Vatican across the nearer bridge, down to a church, where we promptly lost Peter. Everyone stopped at an ATM, but someone started saying it was taking too long, and suggested that some folks go see if there was one up ahead. Peter went, and was missing for about half an hour. Don't actually know why, except that by the time he came back his wife was very annoyed, and Fr. B was about ready to send out search parties. I was just glad he was ok. The church we all waited in front of was very plain on the outside, but inside was decorated in the baroque style. I wish I could remember which one it was.... but since we were waiting, I dipped my hand, knelt and prayed. I pretty much did the same at any church I got allowed to go into, even the ones that were real "touristy", like church of St. Mary and the Holy Martyrs, a.k.a. the Pantheon. I got into trouble with "the group" again at the church of St. Ignacio, because they all went in to find a bathroom, and I went in to kneel down and pray.... they came right out, I took about thirty seconds too long, I guess.
 
We did stop at the Trevi Fountain - and yep, I threw in my 3 coins. Bought a rosary too. Fr. B got mad at me when I threw in my coins - I asked him what the tradition was about the coins, and he said that it meant that you'd come back to Rome, and then snapped, "but it's just a superstition!" - I told him it was fun, and threw my coins - besides, the money all goes to charity! I had my "Trevi" rosary blessed in a very interesting way - but that's towards the end of the story....
 
Lets see, where else did we get to that day? We thought we lost Nat in the crowds a the fountain. Actually, he thought we were lost, so he went to the top of the stairs, and stood in the very middle - he's very tall now, and he was wearing a bright blue shirt that day - very easy to spot - so he was fairly easy to find - like the lighthouse at Alexandria, LOL. Still managed to irritate you-know-who, who laid into me about how he "told him not to get separated from the group" - but hey, when he did - and the crowd was very bad, at least he kept his head, and knew what to do....  The fountain is very nice, and there are many pipes coming out of the wall next to the steps going down to the fountain, into basins, and it's good drinking water. All through Rome there are these little pipes, and they are fed by the aqueducts. The spigots are curved down, with a hole in the top. If you put you finger over the bottom, the water comes through the little hole in the top, so you have a neat little drinking fountain! Everyone was filling their bottles up with "trevi water". It was very hot in the sun; I can see why a lot of people even now leave the city in the summer. Everywhere we went were these women selling scarves, some as inexpensively as 1.5 Euro - about $2.20 - and many women wore them loosely tied over their head and neck, with their sunglasses on - reminding me of old movies with Raquel Welch or Gina Lolabridgida, or something.
 
By the end of the day we met up with the "slow pokes" the "big group" at the Tomb of the Unknown Soldier, near the church of St. Mary Major - one church I didn't get to peek into, darnnit.... then headed to the place the Italian tour guide had arranged for us to have dinner.
 
Next day, bus back into Rome. Later start, but still pretty early, so the crowds weren't too, too bad. Vatican museum first. We had these really neat little devices called "whisperers" - our tour guide was an Italian gentleman, and he had a microphone, and we all had transmitters and earpieces - and whereas the day before we'd all been racing to keep up with Fr. B, because if you were more than three feet away, you couldn't hear a thing, with these ingenious little things, you could be anywhere in the room, and hear perfectly. It was terrific!
 
Right inside the museum, just inside the escalator, shoved into a corner, I got the surprise of my life - the Lacoon - the ancient Roman statue, much admired by Michelangelo, found in some ruins in the early 1500's - they'd originally thought it was one solid piece of marble, and Michelangelo had reportedly studied it extensively, trying to uncover it's "secrets" - it's a statue depicting a man and two young boys, tangled with large serpents. They have offended Athena, by warning the Trojans that the horse left by the Greeks could be a trap, so she has sent serpents to drag them into the sea. And there it is, just sitting there... I guess it used to be in a courtyard, with some of the other sculptures that are considered among the finest in the museum - but in 2000 they redesigned a large part of the museum, and it was moved. Now it's in this lonely corner, and people just wander by. And yes, we got yelled at when I recognized it and went running over, telling Nat the whole story, all excited, 100mph.... "stay with the group!"  So - we saw the main corridors, and again, we could spend a week there, and barely scratch the surface. The frescos on the ceilings alone take your breath away, never mind the sculptures, tapestries, maps, and other artifacts.
 
And then.... the Sistine......
 
Oh..... I can't even find words. As beautiful as it seems in a book, it is insanely more beautiful standing there. And every time you look, it is more beautiful. I would have gladly stayed there all day, just looking and looking. There were hundreds of people in that space - and the security kept shushing us - it was kinda funny, almost. There were benches on the side, and people milling around in the center. And the Last Judgment towering over all. You'd walk, and turn and just stand and gaze, and walk a step or two, and stop and turn and gaze some more. I didn't want to leave. I wish I could go back now. And yes, I remembered to pray, and give thanks, and to pray for you all in this most beautiful of chapels.
 
What did we do after the Sistine? Oh, we followed our guide back into St. Peter's. Much more crowded on a Monday mid-day than on an early Sunday morning! Got to see the stairs that lead down below the main papal altar, to where they keep the little golden ossuary with the bones of St. Peter. Saw a local priest saying Mass on a side altar. Got a better look at some of the wonderful mosaics. Did you know, that all the beautiful "paintings" in St. Peters aren't paintings at all, but are all mosaics? So that they would last through the centuries? Isn't that cool?
 
Then we went through the square to the Vatican gift shop - and this shopping I didn't mind. I got Nat a gift for his Confirmation - which is coming up on May 6th (who wants to come???) - and I got something for my mom. We had a nice lunch, and sat outside and I sipped coffee, Nat had more gelato. There were apparently some Vatican offices across the way, we saw a lot of priests and nuns coming and going, even a "red hat" once or twice. A Dominican priest (all in white) came out and prayed on the sidewalk by the doors for a while. We just sat and watched Rome go by for a while. It was nice.
 
After a late lunch we had a short tour of the Coliseum, and then the kids could wander up to the upper levels if they wanted to. They kept it short because the kids were tired, and some of them were very upset b/c of an incident on the street after lunch - they'd seen a man try to hurt himself, and the police had been called, and they'd called an ambulance. The tour leader decided the best thing to do was to keep moving and keep the kids busy until dinner. It was our last night in Rome, and I had wanted to take Nat out for a nice dinner. But I didn't want to stay behind in the city, because I knew that we'd have to walk about a mile and a half to get back to the hotel, and I wasn't really all that sure what direction we'd have to walk.... so.... we took the bus back to the hotel, and tried to find an open restaurant near the hotel.... and aside from 4 gellitarias and a place to get pastries, nothing was open - it was Monday..... and apparently no restaurants are open in Italy, except in big tourist areas like Rome, because they're open through the weekend. So ..... we ended up walking about ohhhhhh five miles or so..... go ahead, say it.... shoulda stayed in Rome, and then went back to the hotel, were the last dinner in Italy was, I kid you not, chicken patties and french fries.... so we ordered off the "a la carte" menu and Nat had spaghetti with baby clams, and I had swordfish, Sicilian style (to die for!), and we had our dinner "in".
 
Had to get up before dawn even thought of cracking..... our flight was at 4AM, so we were up at 2:30 - I was actually the first one downstairs, and yes, we were cracking jokes about "not being last".... LOL - we'll probably be doing that for a while..... we settled in at our gate and chose seats in the waiting area right across from a little Dominican nun, who was from India, going on holiday, back home to India, for a month, to visit her family. Sr. Arul was her name. She was so sweet. Right behind us was a priest, who spoke German, who was also very nice, but seemed very tired, so we let him rest. I was rummaging in my backpack, and found my "Trevi" rosary, and asked Nat if he'd go find Fr. B and ask him to bless it. Nat was un-thrilled by the idea, but my little nun, all smiles, urged Nat to ask the German priest, so he did, and was back in a flash, and he was smiling too. Then Sr. Arul's cell phone rang, and next thing I know, she's crying. She hung up, composed herself, and walked away a little bit. I wasn't sure what to do - but then I had an idea. I had a St. Jude medal that I'd been carrying all week - it had just turned up in my things, stuck inside a book, of all places! So, I went over, and told her that I didn't want to intrude, and I sure didn't know what her trouble was, but that if it would help, she could have the holy medal, and we'd pray for her. Next thing I know, we're swapping addresses, and now we have a new friend! Neat huh?
 
Anyway, that's about it - Rome to Frankfort, a couple hours, then a one hour layover, then six hours to Boston. Then a couple hour bus ride to home. I don't think Nat's all that jet-laggy any more, but I'm still sleeping pretty weird.... but then again, I have to go back to work (nights) Monday, so, hey, if I'm still on Rome time, I guess it won't matter much, eh?
 
Met a lady going though Logan airport, at Boston - she was coming home from a month in Jerusalem..... said she had a lovely time. Nat immediately said he'd be too scared to go, and she chided him, very gently, telling him he was watching too much tv. Maybe I should start saving for Jerusalem.....
 
Anyway - I do think we were really blessed - to be able to save up for this past year, and go on a trip like this was a miracle in and of itself. I was so blessed to have my son with me, and to be able to show him things, and have him experience these things - history, culture, and a journey of faith, at what is such a beautiful age. You should have seen him during Mass at St. Peter's! He was so funny - at Pompeii he wanted to be an archeologist, then he's in love with all the sculpture, he wanted to be an artist; but when given the chance to go to confession - he makes a beeline! Great kid.
 
He wants to go back in 2025, when the Millennium Doors are opened again - he says he'll buy his Mama a ticket this time - sweet, eh? Well, we'll see what he says when he's 34.... LOL...... mannnnnn I'll be 62...... really creaky then.... definitely no dome climbing then!! LOL
 
I promise, I'll post pics as soon as I can - link to follow!
 
 
 
God bless,
 
Lisa Alekna, MI
lanat@rcn.com
 
"God loves each of us as if there were only one of us."
Saint Augustine
 
 
 
 
Written at 1:30 AM by Luminaria2112.
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