I’m packing up my stuff and all I want to do is sweep. Each time I cross the terrace I think again, all I want to do is sweep. On my third pass I fetch the broom and start to sweep. The dried leaves crunch beneath my broom and I fight the urge to cry.
My husband arrives at the kitchen door and sees me sweeping, he knows me all too well as he crosses the terrace and embraces me in his arms…I cry. I cry for the six years we have spent together in this lovely home. I cry for the fact that neither one of us wants to leave. I cry for the forty-five years that my husband has been reminiscing about since we arrived last week. I cry for his sister and her memories too.
It’s just bricks and mortar right? Not really. It’s seeing a table and remembering a meal with friends. It’s seeing a tree and remembering a cool breeze on your face and the shade it provided on a hot summer day, it’s hearing an owl and remembering that gorgeous full moon and stealing sweet figs from the tree while watering the flowers.
Today my husband will say a final goodbye to his family home. When you work on ships for as long as he has you will understand that having a solid home life is all the more precious to you. We have been blessed to have such a wonderful place in our lives to enjoy family, friends and mother nature.
The bats and the boar will carry on and so will we. We’ll search for a new garden to call our own and plant more lavender and fig trees. We’ll share more lunches on the terrace and the moon will still shine no matter where we go.
That’s life and that’s our Portofino goodbye.