A Walk Through History - Oriolo Romano

A Walk Through History

I didn’t have anything other than the name...the name of a village that once was the familiar home to my grandmother’s family prior to their migration to the US. With the name on a piece of paper we set out to discover her town and capture each moment for the rest of our family to see.

The village was modest in size with tattered buildings, each telling a story of a compelling past. From the main square, perched on a busy street sat a humble coffee shop; the morning gathering place for the locals allowing them to ease into their day with a strong cup of espresso. And to accompany their strong brew was a delicious pastry- pastry only the Italians have crafted to perfection.

The main square housed an antique clock tower, which marked the passing of time with each chime reminding us all that time is a delicate, precious gift. We played with our son below the tower trying to hold on to each moment, grateful that we were all able to witness a deep sense of history.

And as I walked the streets, I kept thinking of a past so rich and so mysterious that each cobblestone could hold the footprint of a life unknown. And as I continued to stroll through the narrow streets with newly cleaned laundry hanging from the windows, I wished that my grandmother was walking those streets with me, sharing her knowledge of a life I know so little about.

Red Poppies in a Field

Driving on the back roads...

A sign outside the police station in Oriolo Romano

As we walked down the small streets...

The main square in town facing North

Looking East

Noah sitting on a bench

Another street in town

The Passing of Time

The Passing of Time

It is hard to believe that 2010 marks our 10th year college reunion. 10 years since we lived in small dormitory dwellings, showered with our flip flops, carted around our shower buckets, and lived among freshman eager to make their mark in their new world.

15 years since my father dropped me off in my dorm and said right before he left me to make it on my own, “get involved Melinda, it will make all the difference.” Thank you Dad for that wonderful advice. I got involved, I sat in class, I read the books, I joined teams, met strangers, organized spring break trips, volunteered, worked, laughed, loved, cried, grew and became an independent person. I rejoice in my college days, loved each minute and embraced the adventure.

The people who entered our lives and slowly faded away all played an integral part of making us the people we have become today. The joys of the first “hello” and the sorrows of the final “goodbye.” It is hard to believe that some of those people who left such an impression on us, who we spent hours and hours with, now have drifted into the makings of their own lives so distant from your own.

It has been 10 years since we eagerly, yet hesitantly received our diplomas from Drexel. It has been 15 years since the journey started. And the beautiful thing about the future is how she holds her arms wide open for you - her prospects endless and her days the greatest mystery of all. Little did I know that holding a door open for a perfect stranger would unlock the door to my heart and together we would embark on the magnificent journey through life.
So, as we take this time to reflect on the moments, the people and the lessons we have learned, we smile knowing that the past was memorable and the future is dazzling. Here is to 10 years, a drifting of time, a weaving and sewing of memories and to a future that once again holds her arms open for us, a clean slate ready for the taking.