My scholarship kids, and what they mean to me

 Aaron and Lauren in Las Vegas in 2003

Lauren's graduation photo

This Monday will be one of those bittersweet days for me. We will have our annual scholarship reception and banquet at the college where I work, and my daughter's scholarship recipients will be there with me at the reception. They are both very sweet kids. I have had the opportunity to get to know them a bit already. 

Hannah, a sophomore, is a soft-spoken young lady who had a terrible accident when she was in high school. Her sister graduated with my son, and her brother with Lauren. She made a full recovery, thank God. She is a section leader in the band, works part time, and maintains a good grade point average. She is very sweet and loving towards me. 

Ryan is a freshman. He is very active in his youth group and in the BSU at school. He is very polite and always friendly. He seems to be a very happy young man. 

I think back to when our scholarship was endowed and our first recipient was chosen. It was such a hard time for us, but looking back, I had no way to know how much happiness these young people would bring me back then. 

We have had great kids to receive our scholarship, and it makes me happy to know that we helped them in some small way. I have bonded with all of the kids who received the scholarship over the years. 

So I salute Amy (in law school now); Paxton (working on his Master's in Music), McGhea (working in his field of computer science), Jordan (still studying nursing) and of course Hannah and Ryan, still in school and still participating in our band. 

Monday, I will remember my sweet Lauren and be thankful that her memory remains alive in such a special way. 

Two guys I adore... and not the ones you think.

I was trying to watch Fr. Robert Barron's "Catholicism" on EWTN the other night, and desperately trying not to fall asleep. I am really interested in this series, and will probably end up buying it one day. So I wasn't falling asleep out of boredom, I was falling asleep out of sheer exhaustion. It was only a couple of days after we returned from Italy, and I was still trying to adjust.

I roused myself when Fr. Barron began to talk about John 6, the so-called "Bread of Life" discourse. We have been hearing a lot about this lately in Mass. I love John 6.  Fr. Barron talked about how many of Christ's disciples left him because they could not live with what he was saying about eating his body and drinking his blood. But Peter stood up and said, “Master, to whom shall we go? You have the words of eternal life. We have come to believe and are convinced that you are the Holy One of God.” Fr. Barron said the other disciples followed Peter and we have been following him ever since.

To me, that is when Peter's formation as the first pope began. Jesus had said that he would build his church on the rock (Peter) and if you think about it, our basilica, named St. Peter's, is built on that rock, since it is Peter's bones under the altar. It is Peter's church, and today his descendant Benedict sits in his chair in that church.

I like Peter. I thought a lot about him when I was in Rome. I like that he had a temper, and that he screwed up a time or two, but he went on to become the leader of the Church. I have a special place in my heart for him.

I thought a lot about St. Paul when I was there, too. To walk on the streets where he and St. Peter walked was truly overwhelming. To be where they had once been is just surreal to me still. When I think of Paul and how he overcame his former life to become one of the greatest apostles, I just know there is hope for me. I really love reading his writings and Peter's as well.

I can't decide which one I love the most, and I am glad I don't have to. Fr. Barron talked about how there are Petrine and Pauline Catholics, but I think I want to remain neutral and accept both of these great men for what they are - amazing.

 St. Peter (at St. John Lateran Church) You can usually recognize him, because he has the keys. 

St. Paul at St. John Lateran Church

Growing in Grace (I dropped my lunch today)

I recounted this incident on Facebook right after it happened, but I will repeat it just the same.

This was my post:

"So, I was walking across the street from the parking lot to my office when the bottom of the Bath and Body Works paper bag I was recycling for my lunch bag gave way and my lunch went everywhere. I picked all of my lunch up, piece by piece off the ground and stuck it all in my gym bag until I could get inside. Someone said, "What a way to start the day!" I was actually really calm about it, because the thought struck me that I at least had a lunch to pick up. So, thank you Lord for the food you have given me today. And I pray for those who don't have anything to eat." As of this writing, 52 of my friends "liked" my post. 

I really kind of surprised myself, quite frankly. Usually,  I get really mad over little things like that, and have been known to utter a curse word I shouldn't utter on occasion. In other words, I don't have much patience with little things like traffic, dropping things, stubbing my toe or hitting my head. I am still mystified at why I reacted the way I did, but I am grateful I did. 

In retrospect, I hope that I am growing in grace. I have prayed that I would, and maybe the Lord is answering that prayer. 

Last Friday, I had the opportunity to ask forgiveness of a stranger (well, she is in my Zumba class, so she is not a complete stranger.) A while back, she and I had a little run-in at Zumba. Without going into details, I will admit I lost my patience (and my temper) and said something sort of mean to her. I didn't like her (or so I thought). I apologized, and she immediately apologized for what she had done, and then in the midst of our conversation I mentioned Lauren. As it turns out, she runs a hospice. She is also a grief counselor. Long story short, I told her I would be willing to talk to a grieving parent if I am needed. What a gift! I asked God to grant me opportunities to help others who are grieving. Those of us in the same "club" understand each other, and there were others who helped me. 

I hate to talk in cliches, but as I have heard it said in the past, "God isn't finished with me yet." I certainly hope not. I hope He will give me lots of opportunities to grow in grace. 

Final Reflections on Italy

Our trip last week to Italy was truly the trip of a lifetime for us. We have been married for 30 years, and this is only the second trip we have ever taken that did not involve a family visit or a business trip. The first trip was our honeymoon!

There are so many facets to the trip for me that I can hardly begin to name them. Spending time with Richard in a relaxed and fun atmosphere where we explored and discovered a new place was exhilirating and refreshing for us both. That was the primary benefit of the trip, but the other benefits were also great.

My Catholic faith was also refreshed and renewed. To be in Rome, where our faith actually began (after the Lord ascended) was so awesome. I truly understand the history of pilgrimages and why people take them. To stand before the tomb of Blessed John Paul II and pray or gaze upon the works of Michelangeo and Rafael was such a surreal experience. In sharing the experiences with friends and family, I have finally begun to realize the intensity of my experiences.

One of the things that stayed with me throughout the entire trip was what Lauren would have thought about it. She loved all things Italian, and was particularly proud of her Italian heritage on her dad's side. She was all set to study Italian when she got to Ole Miss, but that was not to be.

As is everything else for a grieving parent, life-changing experiences that you have after you lose your child are bittersweet. I like to think that Lauren knows what we are doing and that she knew I really dedicated this trip to her. I hope she knows I was always thinking of how she would react or what she might think of what we saw.

Hopefully, one day I will return to my beloved Italy. It is, to me, the most beautiful place on earth.

Sat., Sept. 8/Sun. Sept. 9 : The Long Journey home

Our driver was not picking us up until 10 am so we decided to take one last walk around Firenze after breakfast. 

We had walked before dinner last night through the park along the Arno just to see what things looked like in the opposite direction from what we were used to. It was a nice neighborhood, and along the Arno were little outdoor bars where one could sit and enjoy music, a sandwich or other light fare and wine. 

We ate at the little bar next to our hotel, walked back down the Arno and then came in for the night. 

Our walk this morning included some window shopping in a guitar shop for RT, and a look at the outside of an old church called Sante Famiglia (Holy Family). We ducked into a shop that featured unfinished furniture and plenty of paint, and other materials for crafts. So we got a taste of what the area where we were staying was like. 

We arrived at the airport in plenty of time to go through security, grab a sandwich and get on the small CityJet to Paris. They made us check our bag, which RT hates. One interesting thing is that we got to the gate and the took us on a shuttle for about 30 seconds to the plane. That was weird. 

The airport in Paris turned out to be exactly as my friend Fr. David described it: something of a nightmare. We arrived into some sort of a tunnel with no signs or monitors pointing anywhere, and the security guy was no help at all. We finally figured out that we had to go down a couple of ramps to the terminal. We were in terminal 2G and after running to the info desk we found out we needed to be at 2E. They should be pretty close to each other, right? Uhm, think again. You had to go OUTSIDE to the shuttle and go all around the airport past every other terminal and the train pick up to get there. They were opposite of each other. 

We got to the terminal finally and checked the monitors. Our gate was K49 which meant nothing to us, so we ran to another info desk and got pointed in the right direction. We ran around the corner to the passport area and stood in line to get out of France, and then stood in line to go through security to get out of France. We ran to our gate and the  guys at the gate asked us security questions too. After a minute we finally got to the plane. I would have to agree with Fr. David whole-heartedly. Worst. Airport. Ever. It is completely unorganized. 

After a long, long, long plane ride, complete with three movies, lunch and snack and plenty of turbulence, we finally made it to Atlanta. We texted our son immediately, who texted back that Ole Miss was beating UTEP. That made RT really happy! 

Our Global Entry made coming back into the country so much easier. We got to come through the diplomat’s entrance. We got our bags, but they made us put them back on the conveyor for the plane to Memphis. 

We went to the Sky Club to rest for a few minutes and then got to the gate for Memphis. The plane took off a little later than expected, and finally we got back to Memphis, got our bags, got the shuttle, got our car and headed back to Mississippi. 

It was a long day, but we were happy to be home. We settled in and after being up for probably 24 hours, finally went to sleep. We got up too late for mass unfortunately,  but met our kids for Sunday brunch in Oxford. Resting today and back to work tomorrow. 

 The little airport in Firenze was so cute. 

 Last meal in Italy! Even their airport food is good.

 Worst. Airport.Ever. 

Coast of France- Heading out for the long trip over the ocean.

Fri., Sept. 7 My date with David on my last day in Firenze

This morning, we waited in trepidation after breakfast for the tour driver to come, having missed the tour yesterday. A couple of phone calls yesterday and a fax from American Express seemed to have worked out the issue, but one can never be sure. At 8:40, the driver came into our mad, tourist-filled, bus boarding lobby and walked straight up to me  asking if I was Signora Tallo. RT was outside looking for him. I replied “Si”, and he said, “Prego.” After a week here, I knew it was time to go. 

RT found us and we drove to the bus station at Santa Maria Novella to find our tour. The guy who met us there looked like he could have been Lino Rulli’s younger brother. He looked us up on his iPad, found us and told us to wait. 

A short time later a couple walked up and the guy was wearing, of all things, a University of Alabama hat. The Crimson Tide is everywhere, I guess. Turns out they live in Atlanta. RT and the guy had a friendly exchange about SEC football and then the rest of the folks and our tour guide showed up. 

We drove in two mini-vans across the city to the Piazzale Michelangelo! (This made it the third time RT and I had been there, but it was still cool to see.)  We went back down the hill through the areas we had been yesterday, and finally ended up at the Academia, where David lives (or rules!) 

The tour guide was explaining a lot of the history of the city as we were going along, and when we got to the museum, there was Signori Rulli again to check us in and give us tickets and radios to hear the guide. We skipped the line (my favorite thing) and went right in. We got to see some beautiful old musical instruments including several Stardivari violins, cellos, harpsichords, dulcimers, horns and pianos. 

Then we went into the art side to view some beautiful paintings, panels and sculptures. We made our way through until beautiful David appeared around the corner. He stood there majestically in the center of an area where you could walk around him and admire him from every angle. He has a stone in his right  hand and his slingshot over his left shoulder. Ready for battle, the tour guide said, but I always thought I could imagine Goliath on the ground waiting to have his head cut off. 

We finished the tour through the room of plaster sculptures for a break in the bookstore and a look at someone’s idea of a joke. It was a copy of my precious David, but he was looking pretty funny. I said it was a replica of David by Michel Redneckio.  After this, we then proceeded to the end of the tour. 

Walking through the streets, he pointed out a home where Leonardo Da Vinci had lived and showed us the “headquarters” belonging to the Medicis. That one family produced two popes and two queens of France, along with very high government officials in Fireneze long before the unification of Italy.  

Our guide left us at the Basilica of the Santa Maria del Fiore, or as the Florentines call it, Il Duomo (the Dome). It is the third largest church in the world behind St. Peter’s and St. James in London, according to our guide. It is Gothic style with a Mediterannean flair. There was no line, so Richard and I went inside. Once again, we were overwhelmed by the beauty inside. 

We made our way back through the Ponte Vecchio to a side street where we found a restaurant and had some excellent food. Then we walked the long way back to the hotel to rest before going out to dinner, and do some last minute things like printing boarding passes! Tomorrow we head back to the good old USA! I will miss Italy, but I do look forward to getting home. 

So I say Ciao, Italia! I know I will return to you one day. 

 Lino Rulli's little brother. (If you don't know Lino, please google him!)

The replica of David by Michel Redneckio

 The Medici building. 

 The place where Da Vinci lived for a brief time. 

 Il Duomo- I could not get the whole building in my frame. I wanted to show some detail. 

 Looking up into the dome.

When they tell you to cover your shoulders to enter a church, they mean business! You don't, you end up in a hospital gown! 

Thurs., Sept. 6, The accidental tourist’s guide to Firenze

Today started off with a bang, as we hoofed it back up the hill and the massive stairs to Piazzale Michelangeo to meet our tour bus. Trouble was, our tour bus was at our hotel to pick us up. The miscommunication was on the tour company’s part, as it turns out. I made my first Italian phone call on a public phone to find that out. Our paperwork told us to go up the hill, and the bus driver was told to pick us up here. We decided to try again tomorrow. 

We walked all over Firenze, I believe. We were gone from the hotel for 6 hours, and RT racked up 12,000+ steps on his pedometer. That is usually his allotment for one whole day. On the way we saw a Lutheran church, which reminded me of my sweet daughter-in-law.  

We went to the big open market and bought a few souvenirs. On the Ponte Vecchio, (old bridge) we saw jewelry store after jewelry store with beautiful jewels and gold and silver. Of course, I wanted something, and of course RT bought it! He got me a cameo from the south of Italy that just happened to be on sale. Since it was silver, it did not break the bank at all. 

We visited a beautiful church called Orsanmichele, which would not allow photos inside. It was magnificent! There were beautiful statues outside. As I was remarking on the church, an elderly Italian lady walked by and said, “molto bello!” 

We had a great pizza in the central city area, and enjoyed a coffee and pastry on the Ponte Vecchio. 

We saw some of the places we will visit in depth on the tour tomorrow. We are looking forward to going inside the massive cathedral in the center of the city, called the Duomo, and to the museum that houses David. That will be the highlight of our visit here. I saw the reproduction in California as a child, and I have always wanted to see the real one. 

We came back to the hotel to rest and recuperate from all that walking and actually got on the WiFi here. We were able to straighten out the tour problem and talk to our son, Aaron also.

Headed to dinner in our hotel and then to get some rest for tomorrow, our last full day in Firenze! 

The Lutheran church we found for Anna.

Il Duomo, which we will visit tomorrow. This is no indication of the size of this place. 

Shoppers in the open market

The Church called Orsanmichele, which was beautiful.

One of the many jewelry shops on the Ponte Vecchio.