joy interrupted

Positano is a beautiful place.
One can take an afternoon to look at the clouds and the cliffs and watch a tiny boy playing happily in the sea.
One would be lucky indeed if one were on Paola’s boat doing these things.

And, afterwards, you could have crispy hot pizza at the seafront.
You could play with Brizio and tease him and fall in love with him.

After you are full from the pizza and beer, have Brizio run our on the dock and
Tell Giovanno to take us back to the boat. (Brizio pronounces it boe-et).
Giovanno and Brizio will chat in a funny and friendly way across the harbor.

Next you should have Paola bring you to the beach near the Torre.
Play in the surf –
Laugh at beautiful Paola making jokes and, for some very strange reason, bringing very Large stones up from under the water and carrying them further out.
Boys will be jumping off the side of the cliff into the water.
A gorgeous woman might be topless – but don’t worry, Paola will joke with you about it.

Walk home exhausted, with plans for a perfect evening the next day at Paola’s house. Fabio has the fish, He has a great meal planned.

Sleep the sleep of the dead.
This is the way the day should go.

Do not, instead, see a long black snake on the path to the house.
Don’t call home so quickly, Youngest may not sound so well.
Don’t wonder if you should not have traveled halfway around the world.
Don’t.

Stay in Positano,
Eat more gelato.
Watch the storm roll in from the sea. Feel like newlyweds. Stay for a week, soak it all in.




We have come home early.
Youngest will have surgery in the next few days.
He was well taken care of but we could not be so far from him with him not well.
It took several hours of hand wringing to arrange.
Paola and her family swept us up in their arms, in the rain, and out of
Positano.

We would never have managed so difficult a journey without someone who has proven herself so dear, so loving. She made countless phone calls, absorbed unexpected costs, carried our things, dragged her husband and son to help retrieve us.
Her efforts were overwhelming, and before we knew it we were flying away.


Youngest will be fine.
And so will I – but it broke my heart to leave – no so much Positano, but my friend.
My Paola.