Today’s the day I would have touched down at London’s Heathrow airport
collected my bags from the carousel
and filled my lungs with deep inhales.
The day I had been counting down to
the weeks back in my natural habitat
living out of a suitcase - such a joy for me
one the so many dislike
I was bound for London, Rome then through Germany, Poland and then a road trip with my Travel Soul-Mate through my second home, Italia!
I miss traveling the way you would miss a person
someone not lost but never quite in reach until you’re face to face again
And whilst I’m grateful to be safe and in the same time zone as our families as we navigate all of the strangeness…
Well, today I’m also deeply sad
Sad that in the world I was expecting, I’d be grabbing a bite from M&S today as I raced around the familiar city
Sad that I’m spending my savings in Woolworths and not to line the pockets of the Italian restaurant-owning Nonna’s and Nonno’s
Sad that I can’t lament how my college italian has faded, between sips of the best house red
holding space with locals about studying in Bologna
’Oh but it was many years ago’, I would say as I blush when they compliment my rounding R’s and gesticulations
I’m sad the way lifelong chefs are sad that restaurants are closed
I’m sad the way that avid readers finding refuge in books are sad that libraries are closed
I’m sad my passion is now still a wait
Tomorrow, I’ll plan for the moment the borders re-open
When I can squeeze the faces of our European friends
But for today, I feel heartbroken for that Visa not being used,
the Irish passport not being processed,
the scrappy Italian silenced.
For the suitcase sitting idle in the apartment
For the piece of my heart not on that plane
For the feet that were supposed to just now be stepping out in London Town