Date: Nov 26, 07

As I walked down the heart of San Francisco, and saw star-struck tourists snapping pictures left and right, I smiled and remembered one thing: they have probably seen more of the bay than I have because they know they wont be here to see it tomorrow, so they go see it today.

When I lived in Siena, I lived only a block from the Piazza del Campo. Tourists flocked the main square and would scale the tower. Yet, since I lived just a block away, and I could enjoy the breathtaking sight any time, I took the privilege for granted, and I never did get around to it.

Likewise, in life, we sometimes live life in tourist mode and soak up what ever we can because we know we might not have a chance tomorrow.

Other people are so sure they'll have tomorrow, and the next, that they never get around to following their dreams. For them, tomorrow never comes.

We all have a yearning within our hearts. A dream, maybe. A goal. It can be something small. Domani! Tomorrow!… it waits.

Tomorrow. Like the horizon. You keep walking towards it, but it never comes.

I prefer to live life like a visitor. Soak up what ever I can. Experience as much as I can. No more waiting because all I have is today, and I'm done with waiting for that elusive tomorrow…

Day before Kennedy's Assasination:

Day before the atomic bombing of Hiroshima:

Day before 9-11:

(Original Post Date Sept 4)

Before going ‘home’ for the holidays in Norway, the Viking and I spent over a month in a picturesque Italian town nestled in the alps. Population: 150 (official count is 750, but I wonder if it includes the houses below). Language: Venetian Dialect. Streets: only one street rich in history and tradition.

I arrived in Italy a week before he did and boy was I in for a surprise! In that little town I learned the meaning of "friendship, family, fresh food, and small town charm!".

It took me a full day of travel to finally reach the small secluded Italian town from California. When I finally arrived to the train station on the valley below, I hadn’t been able to sleep in over 30 hours and I was exhausted! but had to wait in the crisp December breeze for the landlady, since she insisted on picking me up from the train station.

"Leave the luggage in the car, lets go shopping!". The "quick drive home" twisted and turned through a dangerously narrow alpine road with breath taking views, and the minutes turned into hours of shopping and meeting her friends. She treated me like a guest, and I felt at home!

Ah, but afterwards she refused to take me home since "it's dark, no one is there, and the grocery store is closed", so she insisted I joining her for a meal with her husband, two very well behaved courteous young boys, and many of the town residents.

After full day of schmoozing Italian style, I finally opened the door to my cozy apartment and went straight to the bedroom and opened the window taking in the crisp winter air, and fell in bed admiring the massive view of the alps with a smile. My first day back in Italy had been very heart warming!

When the Viking finally arrived from Norway to join me, he had it coming since by then the entire town of 150 knew about us and wanted to know all about these two foreigners in this very history rich small corner of Italy!

Two days before Christmas, we left to Venice in order to finish our Christmas shopping and we rushed "home" to Bergen, Norway to spend Christmas with his family… but this small Italian town stayed in my heart!

Today I came across pictures of another small town gifted with similar breathtaking views, but something else happened and it's hard to explain! All the citizens left!

They abandoned their roots, local traditions, and homes! I'm sure this town also had so much to offer! What causes citizens to abandon en masse their beloved traditions and home?

 

Original Date:  Aug. 22, 2007

It’s decided. I’m definitely canceling my beloved medical contracts and opening Italian translation contracts. The move calls for it, and by not having to deal with land lines and dollars, I will be able to rely on the security and flexibility of emails and Euros.

As I take the last medical calls, all week I’ve been admiring outside my window a proud peach tree that once stretched it’s arms to heaven but had recently began to look a bit tired and it’s busy arms now touched the ground with the weight of ripe fruit. How can a tree give so much fruit? So much that when the sun sets the peach scent filters through my curtains.

I’ve continued with my busy days not minding the hundreds of peaches staring at me daily. Today’s view was not as pleasant and I stood there frozen. The tree gave in and one of the 3 main branches snapped in half with the weight! A simple stick would have saved the tree and would have given us years of fruit!

With guilt, we picked up all the fruit from the wounded branch and gave it away to grateful relatives and neighbors.

Phone rings, I must take a call. I find myself speaking to a patient about her discharge from the hospital. After a long set of instructions, I ask her if there are any stress factors that might hinder her recovery.

The line grew quiet, and I could sense that I had touched a sensitive subject.

In between muffled sobs she whispers that her daughter passed away in a car accident and left an orphaned toddler for the grand-parents to raise, but her husband had also been injured and was bed-ridden and paralyzed. She had lost a daughter, her husband couldn’t work anymore, and she now must manage to raise a toddler as her health needed tending as well.

There are resources available to you, you know? We could send a nurse to help you with house chores, cooking, and your husband’s care. We could schedule therapy for you, this is hard! You have a big load and you need all the help you can get!

She fakes an optimistic tone and answers back “I’m fine thank you, I really rather not talk about this; I don’t want to think about it. Have you called the prescription to the pharmacy?”.

Yes, it’s ready. Remember that help is just a phone call away, okay?

Thank you, I don’t need more help.

…and I look out at the peach tree.

I don’t want to stare at another branch give too much until it snaps, but what more can one do?

Working my way through med school doesn’t sound so difficult anymore…