Mi manca l’Italia (I miss Italy). I say this to my husband, Mark, accompanied with a sigh. What am I missing? The food and wine? Certo. The people? Ovviamente. But mi manca I’Italia is code for something else.
Mark came into my life following the deaths of our first spouses. When we met, flames flickered, then blazed. Submerged for years, my existence exploded. I felt a release, one I couldn’t name until we traveled to the Amalfi Coast.