You don’t make the timeline, the virus makes the timeline — Dr. Anthony Fauci
In other times, my suitcase would be fully packed by now for an April 8 departure to Rome. In other times, I would have a full schedule of things on my itinerary to show you: fantastic restaurants; cooking classes with friends; wine tastings with some of the best in the region; natural beauty to take your breath away; historic churches and museums. New friends to make, new food to eat, new memories to savor. And so much more.
But these are not other times. This is now. And we who love Italy are all feeling so many emotions at once. Grief. Fear. Pride. Horror.
And as we stand on the shore of our own oncoming tsunami, we feel all of that for ourselves as well. Is it harder to know, or to not know? I’m not sure . . .
Things are difficult here in the States right now. A leadership vacuum at the top – and sheer stupidity from some in Congress and in state and local government – has made some of us wonder how many of us will truly get out of this alive. For sure, none of us will get out without being changed in some way. Let’s hope it’s for the better (apart from the 20 pounds it looks like we’re all going to gain).
In times like these we look for heroes. I posit that two Italian-Americans have risen to that level: Dr. Anthony Fauci, who brought us first out of the AIDS crisis in the 1980s-1990s, and was there for every ensuing pandemic. And Governor Andrew Cuomo, who every day brings me to tears with his facts, his eloquence, his heart, and his personal observations. Earlier this week, when he quoted from his father, the late Governor Mario Cuomo, my heart nearly couldn’t take it.
Although I live in Massachusetts now, I will always be a New Yorker. I was born just outside the city, went to school upstate, and arrived with my degree in the Big Apple in 1973. For 17 years, I lived in Brooklyn and then Manhattan. I love the noise, the bustle, the promise of New York. I love the air brakes, the honking horns, and the colorful language. I love the melting pot of it, the theatre of it, the uptown and downtown of it.
So I am very proud that another Italian-American is in charge of the state today. And that he has his head on straight and that he is able to clearly articulate what we need to hear in an honest, professional, and compassionate voice.
Years ago, his father asked an Italian-American reporter, “Were you always Italian?” An odd question, but one which I have wrestled with for most of my life. To him, “being” Italian meant not just loving Rome and Florence and Venice – that’s easy. It meant understanding the Mezzogiorno [southern Italian] culture, too; being Italian meant overcoming the urge to hide the impoverished land of your ancestry. He both understood and overcame.
Perhaps, in a similar way, that embracing of all that is New York has rubbed off in a major way on his son Andrew, and that has contributed to Andrew’s being the level-headed and admired leader that he is today.
Of course, there are flaws, as with any human being. But for now, he is the best we have and I believe we are the better for it. Every single day.
We don’t know where this Covid-19 pandemic is going to go, or where it will add end (or even when). For now, we can stay inside, wash our hands, try not to eat a pound of pasta at one sitting, and think of where we might have been next month. And think about when we will go again.
Italy needs us. We need Italy. And if it is meant to be, we will be there together again before too long.
Stay safe.
Linda Dini Jenkins is a card-carrying Italophile, travel planner, freelance writer, and amateur photographer. Travel is her passion, so writing about her travels just comes naturally. She hopes all her travelers find a way to express their joys, surprises, and fears as they travel and gives every traveler a nifty journal to help smooth the way. Learn more…
