Perfect timing: Exploring nostalgia and grief in Florence

March 27th - Florence, Italy

I had visited Florence maybe three times before we went, and grief hit me hard while we were in Piazzale Michelangelo. I visited in 2017 with my family, including my godmother and my mom, and we also visited many of the places we went to. My godmother passed away in February of 2025,  and it is a loss that I am still healing from. My brain sometimes likes to play tricks with me when it comes to the mystery of death, because sometimes I can almost see memories as if they were from a third-person point of view outside of myself. As we walked, I sometimes imagined my godmother looking up at the buildings around us, or laughing and trying to find a good spot to take a picture at the top of the hill, like she had when we were there together all those years ago. It's always been a really weird thing to me how someone is there one moment and then not there the next, so I think my brain sometimes does this as a way to remember, or perhaps soften the blow.  Sometimes I would place these ghosts, dancing or laughing, in situations I was in in Florence, wondering, "What would they say if they were here right now?" While we were on our way to Piazzale Michelangelo, we were running late to see the sunset, so when we arrived, I surely thought the best of it was over. I sat there thinking about her while looking at the sky, and to my surprise, the sky just kept getting more and more beautiful. Even when I thought to myself, "there is no way it can get prettier than this," it exceeded my expectations and got even prettier in a span of 5 minutes.  I thought I was running late, but it was a kind reminder from everything around us that we're always at the right place at the right time with the right people. 

It was also beautiful to be there, "alone" in a way, away from family and with new friends.  I've always wanted to make a point of doing things on my own, just to prove that I can. My mom has always told me that when I was a little kid s

he would try to feed me, and I would grab the little plastic spoon she held and say, "Yo puedo sola," "I can do it on my own."  It has become a funny callback to many things I've done in life on my own, but traveling like this was something I hadn't yet done. to make my own memories independently, away from family, was bittersweet but a milestone nonetheless.