Pilgrimage to St. Lucy

Mary, Jacob, Clare, Sebastian and I went on a pilgrimage to Syracuse, Sicily, to visit the tomb and basilica of St. Lucy.  Lucy is one of the early church martyrs who died under the regime of the Emperor Diocletian. Although we do not have many facts about her life, we do know that at a young age, she refused to renounce her Christian faith. The perseverance of this young woman has served to inspire Christians for millennia. When Mary was born, Ron and I named her after Lucy--Mary Lucinda. On this pilgrimage, I begged for Lucy to pray for Mary through these next two years in Italy, her last two years of high school, that she would be given grace upon grace and emerge, too, a towering saint.
     Syracuse was at the exact opposite end of the island from our town. Driving across the island, we saw vast expanses of uninhabited, mountainous terrain, speckled with orange tree groves and farmland.

The oldest shrine to Saint Lucy

Lucy's Tomb

The basilica of St. Lucy, across the town from her tomb.  It has a baroque exterior but an ancient, Romanesque interior.  

Statue of St. Lucy on the front of the basilica

One of the many paintings of St. Lucy

Flipping Out

In classic Ron Rombs fashion, we were not content to see the beach from land.  Ron rented a motorboat for two days and explored every cove, bay and beach for a major stretch of the island.  Many of them can only be accessed from water.  It was a high point for all of us. When we were anchored, there were lots of flips overboard!

Sicily--Be still my heart!

Our family is taking a much-needed break: after an intense homeschooling year, after an international move, and after Ron's Summer Rome Program, we are all BEAT. The day after he finished the program, we hopped in cars from our new house in Frascati, drove 11 hours to Sicily.
    We are staying in Scopello, an adorable little fishing town on the remote, northwestern coast of the island. Scopello has some of the best restaurants I've ever been to, although they cost less than Macaroni Grill.  The best bottle of wine we've had here was so good; I asked the waiter where it was from.  He said it is from the town 5 km away.  That fits in nicely with the rage in Italy: "ZeroKM."  Eating food that is from zero kilometers away, i.e., that was not imported. That must be why every meal has octopus or clams or mussels or shrimp with long legs and eyes in it. Tasty! But definitely not for the faint of heart!

The beach is so beautiful. We have scouted around and tried three different ones.  The closest is a pebble beach; the next one is a large, sandy beach.  The third one is on the very tip of the island, north west, looking out toward Spain.  It feels like the edge of the world.  So gorgeous! 

Italian School

We've had the best month taking Italian classes in Rome!  Mary and Jacob were in one class, I was in another, and then Leigh and Clare got a private class for the two of them (since they are under aged but the school made an exception since. . . this is Italy). My Italian has never been better.  Now I know how much I do not know!
 

The four kids walking to the first day of class

Walking Tour of Carivaggio with the Italian school--A creative way to learn outside of class

Carivaggio's House in Rome (someone lives there now. . . can you imagine?)

We drove from campus to Anagnina train station, then took the metro to San Giovanni.  But one day, the metro was on strike!  Chaos! 

Mary and Jake on the last day of school--practically fluent :)

Joy

What a joy to be with Mom and Dad in Italia!

We’ve Arrived!

On our way!

Hairy scary but we made it!

Monopoly

I feel like I am living a game of Monopoly.  Some days I draw a Chance card and it tells me to go to Park Place and pay whatever is owed there.  Those are the days that, even though I am days away from a move of a family of 8 to Italy, I have to pay my bills but my computer won’t connect me and I lose my password.  I have to pay my taxes and—oh yeah, not kidding—my ceiling caves in and I have $10,000 of repairs ahead.

But then there are the days I draw a Treasure Chest Card.  “Benevolent Aunt comes to town and takes 4- year-old to water park for 8 hours and you get all your packing done.” Wahoo!!  I hit the jackpot. 

Flying with a 100 lb. Dog to Rome

Ron and the 4 girls flew to Rome.  They almost missed the flight because, among other things, the airlines almost refused to accept our dog.  But we had 1) gotten a ticket for him; 2) gotten 7 pages of required paperwork stamped by the Italian consulate; 3) gotten a crate that could have fit Clifford, the Big Red Dog, and 4) spent hours on the phone with the airlines working out every detail.
    Still, when the time came, they refused the dog.  After hours of haggling at the DFW airport, they finally took the dog and the family boarded the flight.
    Once in Rome, the family got their bags, and went to retrieve the dog.  For two hours they went from counter to counter, asking everyone they could find where animals who have flown are.  No one knew.
   Finally,  a guy said, "Check the lost and found."
   Ron replied, "The dog’s not lost!"
   The man insisted: "Go to the lost and found."
   Reluctantly, Ron and the girls went to the lost and found.  Ron asked for his dog.  The guy at the lost and found shouted with incredulity: "YOU LOST YOUR DOOOOOOG?????"
    Four and a half hours later, they found the dog, and finally left the airport.

Our Novena 12 Years Ago

Bonding with Kids

We move to Italy in 12 days--the first group of us does, that is.  The number of things we still have to do and the number of challenges that unexpectedly arise are astonishing.  I have found myself plowing through days like an ox tilling a field.  I hardly even look up and notice the people around me (my children, mainly) unless they happen to annoy me. :)
 
In Mass a few days ago, I was praying about my frantic soul.  It suddenly came to me.  Stop and look your children in the eye.  Tell them how special they are to you.  Take one or two of them out, just one on one.  Think of some way to compliment them.  Do not get upset whey their dye the tips of their hair pink (I'm not kidding about that, either).

A few days later of trying to implement this new plan, I heard laughter.  Four of my older kids were talking in the kitchen and laughing hysterically.  I realized, "We have a happy home."  Nothing is more important to me in this lifetime.    

My Mom

A beautiful soul, a beautiful passion for those in most need, reckless in her love for her family and children, determined to lift up the voices of women in all eras of history.  A woman who makes history herself.  I love you Mom!