GOING HOME

Tomorrow morning I will leave on a 12 day trip to visit family, friends, and roots in what was once my corner of the world. The trip will end with my 50th class reunion at Lebanon Valley College...now that is hard to believe.


watercolor by Julio Rodriguez

It will always be home, not Elkton, Maryland or Wilmington, Delaware, but Landisville, New Jersey, even if the only Renzullis remaining are resting quietly under the oak trees at Friendship cemetery. But cousins Joan, Angelo, and Dan are only a few miles away and visiting them has become one of several “traditions” that have come to define my trips home since moving to Paducah 9 years ago. My friend Obie and I will drive the 30 plus miles from Wilmington through flat, pristine southern New Jersey farm land to Joan and Angelo’s home where we will spend the next several hours enjoying memories, wine, and an abundance of good food…always some pasta.

Another tradition also involves cousins, this time from the Rondinelli side of the family. Obie and I will drive another 30 miles, this time north into south Philly to Danny and Linda’s house. Danny’s brother Joe who now lives in central New Jersey will also be there, and once again there will be wine and food (it is impossible to sit at their kitchen table and not have Linda place not one, or two, but three or more tasty morsels before us…bread, cheese, cold cuts, peppers, and even broiled lamb chops…all of this before dinner!) From there, Danny, Joe, Obie, and I drive to a café about 12 blocks away (6th and Bainbridge) where we enjoy our annual repast, martini’s and crepes. Family obligations can be demanding, but I refuse to renege on my responsibilities.

A third agenda on every trip home consists of a visit with my dear friend Hal, a man with whom I have shared my journey and my soul for over 40 years. I cannot imagine how it would have been without his presence. We will sit and talk, drink some coffee and talk some more. Probably go out to lunch where we will talk even more. It is a relationship that is quiet, trusting, and without any demands; we are aware of our history and our commitment to one another. On some occasions, I can arrange for Hal, Obie, and I to go out to dinner, and having the pleasure of dinning with two very special friends, I am reminded once again of my very good fortune.

I cherish these visits, returning to old friends and familiar places, eating and drinking, laughing, and rejoicing in mutual memories. But as important as they are, they are steps behind the primary purpose of these trips…to be with my daughters and their families. When I decided to move to far western Kentucky I knew I was placing time and distance between us. I told myself that this was OK because of the wonderful relationship I have with my children, in part because it was true and in part to avoid feeling guilty about doing so. Recently I find myself missing the times we had together, especially the shared dinners. I don’t know if this is a function of my age, or evidence that still another chapter in my ever-evolving life is about to begin. Whatever the reason, it is something I will have to resolve for myself.

WHAT A WONDERFUL DAY

The best experiences in life are usually unplanned. First, some background:

It has become a tradition on my trips back home (Maryland, Delaware, and New Jersey) for me and my dear friend Obie (Wilmington) to travel to south Philadelphia early Sunday afternoon to visit my cousin Danny and his brother Joe who comes down from central NJ. After a few glasses of wine, some cheese, bread, and other goodies, we go to our favorite cafe at 6th and Bainbridge for the best martinis and crepes east of the Mississippi river. I called Danny a few weeks ago to let him know I would be back east this past weekend and we arranged for our usual outing. Before leaving on Sunday I called Danny to let him know that our friend Hal would be joining us. It took only a few minutes of phone time for me to know that he had forgotten about our visit, and had planned on a dinner at home with Linda (Danny’s saintly wife), daughter Michelle, Joe, and their sister Emily and one of her friends from the convent.

After letting him hang on his own forgetfulness for awhile, I declined his invitation to join them and said that we would be coming for a brief visit before going off to the cafe and would not disrupt his family plans. Now I knew all along that Linda would not allow us to leave their house, and was not surprised - or embarrassed- when she insisted we stay for dinner, telling me she had already started cooking for us. I only hope I can do justice in describing what followed.

First, there was the usual wine, bread, hot peppers, and cheese. But in addition she set out a plate of broccoli rabe that 48 hours later still haunts my taste buds. Just when I thought it could not be any better, a platter of small lamb chops, broiled in olive oil and balsamic vinegar appeared, and then I knew...yes Virginia, there is a heaven.

And the day only got better. For about two hours we enjoyed the company, the wine, and Danny’s vodka martinis. (Danny, Joe, and Emily’s parents are both gone. Their father was my mother’s brother, and they lived together with 2 other brothers when they were teenagers how that came to be is another story.)

Then the call came, Linda telling everyone to find a place at the table, and the serious dinning began. Before us were bowls of ravioli. fettuccini, meatballs, pork and beef from the gravy, and salad. And the feast began, with Pavarotti and others filling the room, the conversation and laughter flowed as easily as the wine. It was truly a most wonderful day. I do believe that their was love in everyone's eyes as we relished Linda’s food and each other’s company.