Poco A Poco Tutti Giorni

19:59. November 13, 2010. My Apartment in Firenze.

Lacey has been begging me to write a blog about her for months now, the whole time I’m pretty sure she’s been joking. However what she doesn’t know and I guess, you know, since this thing goes on the internet, she soon will, is that for months now I’ve tried to write a blog about her. Here’s the thing though, I can’t. It sounds cheesy and cliché to say that there are no words to describe what her friendship and mere presence mean to me but that’s it. It’s cheesy and it’s cliché and it’s the truth. Yet I’m still going to try.
I don’t think I would have ended up here in Italy had I not decided that I wanted to travel abroad with Lacey. When I told my father that I wanted to go to Europe he was both shocked and thrilled that I wouldn’t be spending the semester weaving loincloths in the middle of some rainforest (by the way I would still relish the opportunity to participate in that dad). That being said, this blog, unlike all of my other blogs, isn’t supposed to be about me. It’s supposed to be about Lacey. When (thanks to Hurricane Irene) I had to arrive in Florence without her, I was sad. When she finally met me here, I was elated. And through this whole experience: of learning to find my voice, taking in all that Italy has to offer me, the ups, the downs, the buses, the trains, the travels, the changes and the crossroads – I’ve been blessed beyond words and measure to have the most wonderful friend standing there next to me. She jokes and tells me every week to write about her. She doesn’t know how difficult it is. This is the week though and maybe it’s not as eloquent as it could be but it has to be said. Through every lesson that I learn she is here and there is something of immense value in that. This blog is about sharing my understanding of my encounters abroad with those of you out there kind enough to listen; so I can no longer defer this subject because it is an essential element of this life-altering experience. How does one begin to express the value of friendship? Not only that but how do I express it brilliantly, not because I want to sound brilliant but because it deserves brilliance, because it is brilliant. Rather though, I have this throw up of text, it’s not brilliant, it’s messy. However, life is messy and this is a process. The thing is that I am overcome. I imagine that some people have best friends with whom they merely enjoy spending time. Some people have best friends who keep them company and stave off loneliness. Some people have best friends who they keep around because they are loyal, or kind, or generous. These are all honorable human qualities and I would certainly use some of them to describe Lacey but (in my humble opinion) her best quality, and oddly enough the one that is also most pertinent to my experience abroad is her persistence. It may sound odd, I know, but hear me out.
I spend many afternoons in Florence sitting in a particular café near my apartment pondering life and making small talk with the barista. The other day he said to me, “Everyday is English, why do you never speak to me in Italian?” A simple but direct question. I replied, “I don’t speak Italian very well and I worry that I won’t be understood.” To this he responded, “poco a poco tutti giorni.” Which means, little by little every day. These are the hints of clarity I find in everyday life. They always come from unexpected places and as I contemplate them, they twist their way into the fabric of my whole experience here in Italy and in life in general.
What does this have to do with Lacey you might ask. It is (as I see it) her method. This persistence - her most valuable contribution to our friendship and her most striking addition to my life. Sometimes this means that we fight. Sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the road she can set in front of me. Sometimes it becomes unbearably frustrating when I am trying to focus on the good aspects of a present situation and all she can focus on are the things that would make it better. But when I see a huge mountain, impossible to overcome, she can see it like my barista. Poco a poco tutti giorni. And she never gives up. It is precisely because she is here, because she has this invaluable ability to persist and to challenge me to become something better that I consider myself so blessed. This blessing and all that it brings leaves me without words and the ones I’ve just said don’t scratch the surface. This blog is about sharing my understanding of my encounters abroad with those of you out there kind enough to listen; so there it is. My messy expression: of gratitude, of love. It may not be as brilliant as it deserves to be but I learn to express it better as I am compelled to persist in the effort. Poco a poco tutti giorni.