Yesterday was Labor Day in Italy and almost everything was closed, including schools and shops and businesses, but not our town pool, which picked the holiday to kick off the summer season. They opened the outdoor pools and water slides, the beach volleyball court, the mini soccer field and the playground. They had games and entertainment for the kids, free beer and spritz for the parents, hot dogs and hamburgers and pizza and chips and trays and trays of sliced bread with Nutella. It has been a cool and rainy spring here, but yesterday was only a little cloudy, and it was warm with a nice breeze. It was very good weather for our first day at the pool.
We rode our bikes there in the morning and we stayed all day, and it felt like the first real day of summer, that carefree feeling of a long string of sunny days ahead.
In the evening, friends came for dinner, the easy kind you don’t really need to impress, but everything turned out well nonetheless, and after we ate the boys put on a miming show for us, mostly about boxing matches or people beating each other up.
Someone said it would take a winter and a summer after my separation to feel OK again, and maybe for her that’s how it was, but it took me longer than that. Two years, less a month, and I was whole again. I was getting better all the time, but it took the injury to get me over the last little hump. I guess sometimes it can do you good to stop running, stand where you are, take a look around. Then everything heals all together and you can start up again with that carefree feeling of a long string of sunny days ahead, and you wouldn’t change a thing.