My Dad in the Eternal City...

                    ( My Dad in back, his brother and sister in front)

4/14/10

I remember as a young kid asking my dad what he thought happened to us when we die. He said he didn't believe in Heaven or Hell. He believed any afterlife we might have was in the memories we had left behind of us in others.

My dad passed away a year ago today. I have lit the yahrzeit candle and thought of the many memories I have of him. There are a lot, and happily they are mostly good ones with many that I consider stellar. I only want to share one today, and it has been hard to choose which one.

In 1967 or 1968 when I was 16 (December baby) my parents took me on a 2 week tour of London, Paris and Rome. My mom was recovering from cancer and the primitive forms of chemo and cobalt therapy that were available back then. Our first stop was Paris. We arrived at early evening and our luggage got held up at the airport. Mom was understandably tired and encouraged my dad to take me out to absorb some nightlife since we couldn't even unpack. This became our SOP when we arrived in Rome and London as well. Dad would take me out and mom would rest up a bit.

When we got to Rome it was again early evening. Rome was dad's favorite city of the three and he was itching to get out into it and show it all to me. My father was an even tempered guy for the most part. To see him so passionate and excited about Rome was a memorable experience in itself. We walked down the Via Veneto for a while and then he hailed a cab. The driver spoke only Italian and dad and I only English. Through a very energetic series of pantomimes my dad got the driver to understand that we wanted to see all the wonderful sites/sights of Rome.

The driver quickly entered into the spirit and took us first to the Coliseum. We got out and walked around in it for a while. It was all lit up and took my breath away. When we got back in the cab the driver gestured at the Coliseum and said, "Molto bella!" Well, even dad and I could figure that out and dad responded enthusiastically and again pantomimed that we wanted to see all that was molto bella! So we spent the next few hours driving all over Rome with the three of us shouting "Molto Bella!!" at the top of our lungs. It was a magical evening to say the least. Yep, definitely a stellar memory of my dad.

My guess is I am the only one living with that memory now; the driver was not a young man.

Here is what I think. I love you dad, and I will always remember.