Once Upon a Time...

I dug this post out of the archives from seven years ago. It gives a little background on the title of this blog and highlights why Roma calls to us still. 

I was tuning my viola in the college music department atrium when I first recall laying eyes on a young man with curly brown hair and jade eyes. He rolled in the front door on roller blades, then clomped up the narrow marble staircase to class still wearing the blades, singing all the way.

In February 1996 I attended a master class in which this same man participated. He sang "Quanto e bella"* from the Opera, Elixir of Love. The visiting master critiqued that he had an excellent voice and technique, but lacked passion. The instructor then pointed randomly to me in the audience and said. "There is your love. You, in the white sweater. Sing it to her." He instructed me to act aloof and to pretend to read a book. The dutiful student began again with ardor.

Our paths crossed periodically on campus. I have a newspaper clipped photo of the large ensemble in which we both performed, he with the tenors, me in the strings. We weren't aware until years later.

I nannied throughout college and often had a young child along that I'd drop off with another care-giver on campus. One day I was helping a teacher move some things and Jade Eyes offered assistance. We finally exchanged names. Later I learned Jason found me attractive, "with eyes like a cat," but assumed I was the mother of the blond child and already taken.

In May 1996 I attended his senior recital and met his parents. Shortly after we were both hired by our mutual voice instructor to work for an educational opera company that performed each summer in Rome, Italy. That summer I worked for the company in the US while Jason worked his third season in Rome and we'd communicate the necessary details via international phone and fax keeping the calls as short as possible to save dimes. At summer's end we traveled together to Virginia to move the program's base of operations. After clearing up my single status, this is where our friendship actualized. Somewhere between religious discussions, duets, shared meals, and 45 minutes in Washington D.C. where we raced to the Washington Monument and back before our train departed, our friendship had been cemented. It probably didn't hurt that he was kind of a rock star, having just produced his first album with his brother.

Jason graduated that December and moved back home to Iowa to teach and give music ministry a shot. The next summer we were both recruited to work for the opera, but this time I got to be on location too. Jason greeted me when I arrived and happily showed me the ropes and the charms of the city. He treated me to a slice of street pizza. Once he serenaded me with, "Quanto e Bella" in the middle of Piazza Navona. I was sure he remembered, unless that's just what he sang to all the girls...

It soon became apparent that we felt something deeper. One evening while taking in the beauty of the Spanish Steps he asked if he might kiss me. I don't think he knew it was my first.



The program ended and our planes went their separate ways. Romance in Rome was aces, but we had no grander illusions. It was not long however, until the phone bills and mileage began to add up and by January of 1998 we'd committed ourselves to long-distance dating. I graduated in the spring and began teaching in St. Louis shaving two hours off the drive. The following summer, I finished off the final five by moving to Iowa. That opera season of 1999 Jason and I again found ourselves on the Spanish Steps. Well, "found ourselves" drastically undercuts the massive planning behind Jason's scheme to arrange the perfect night. But in the end, he asked if I might be his sposa.

August 3, 1999

We were married on the Feast of Our Lady of Fatima in 2000. We had dreamed a little of a wedding in Rome, but in the end, having the people we loved witness our vows took priority over setting. As a compromise, we took our wedding clothes with us to Rome the following month which was to be our last summer working for the opera. As a gift, the opera program's photographer spent an evening snapping our bridal pictures all over town.

June 2000

A year later, we bought our first home and moved back to Missouri. We grew up fast when Ben arrived and fell into the rhythm of life, love, and labor. We realized recently that we haven't been away together since our honeymoon nearly ten years ago. Ten years seems long enough. So to celebrate our first decade of marriage we will again visit the Spanish Steps.


At least that's the plan.

*Rough Translation: How beautiful she is, how dear she is the more I see her, the more I like her but in that heart I'm not capable. Little dearness to inspire. That one reads, studies, learns. I don't see that she ignores anything. I'm always an idiot. I don't know but to sigh. Who will clear my mind? Who will teach me to make myself beloved?

Update: 9/21/17

The plan was fulfilled, though I recall leaving a sick Ben behind with a true friend! We had a wonderful Roman anniversary, ahem nine months before Gigi's birth.

Seven years later, in the year of Fatima, we are planning to return again, this time, in part to share with our children where our story began. Maria will finally get to mangiare i nostri bambini (eat our babies). I suppose it would be easier and more accurate to show them the former music department 100 miles from home. Ma no, roma sta chiamando. But no, Rome is still calling.