Friday afternoon my beautiful new cabinets were installed in my kitchen. I am so thankful for all the people in Italy who made that happen as well as my supporters in America. I really am pleased with them.
But... somehow I'm already missing the old kitchen. The one with the ironing bored set up as the counter. The one with the little outdoor plastic table that wobbled when you looked at it and was too low to sit at as a "table". The one where Giacamo knocked over a bottle and spent forever mopping the floor. The one where Yuko quickly and diligently rolled her sushi. The one where I demonstrated the art of making an Italian cappuccino via Skype to San Antonio. The one where I sat on the floor on a rainy day picking out furniture.
It's like when my parents reminisce about being so poor that they could only afford beans when they first got married. And how their early apartments were so very tiny...
Because those memories are so very sweet. They are the first ones - the ones that make you realize that it will be OK... the ones where you are so in love nothing matters except being together... the ones that make you realize that you don't need a utensil drawer to have a great evening.
You just need great people... and a little bit of slowing down to enjoy what is around you... and a heart that's ready to dive into every experience that comes your way.
And the truth is that those things still can happen with a kitchen full of beautiful cabinets.
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