Thursday, September 11


Seven years ago today I was living in Orvieto, Italy.

That seems a bit odd to say even though it's true. There's part of that semester abroad that will always feel a little like a dream from which I'm slowly waking.

It was the one year anniversary of 9-11 and one of the local churches had a memorial service. Here's this little ancient Italian town, across the ocean, willing to take a few hours to remember those who were lost on another country's soil. The village's firefighters and policemen came in uniform and we sat quietly in the pews. In all honesty, I have no idea what was said, as the whole service was in Italian (and at that point I was only a few weeks in on my studying) but I remember being very touched by the sentiment of it all. As we walked around town that day, shop keepers had candles lit in their windows and little American flags hung nearby. It seemed a very fitting way to remember. I think they're better at these things than we are. We seem to be too busy, pulled in too many directions to allow ourselves ample time to feel things and sit back to remember. The pace is much slower over there and much more conducive to days of remembrance.

This was my town for 4 months.
Picture thanks to Tuscia Garden B&B.

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