New stuff, less money, and some nostalgia

This morning Marc asked me to take some photos for him. Specifically, he wanted me to take some pictures of the new furniture and carpet in the 3rd floor room as well as the new living room furniture and carpet in entrance hall in Arch Street Building. This was in response to a note from Bro Michael Touchstone.

Money for these improvements came from the Don Bosco Association. Michael wants photos so that he can tell the people of the association on the donations have been used.

So, I have gone from room to room and taken photographs of all the "new stuff" and the improved stuff -- including Bro John Rasor who is improving greatly after his year-long bout with a nasty benign tumor. As a matter of fact, he has been a lot of fun these days. While his energy is a bit diminished, his wit is in tact.

Marc is paying all the bills today, making little repairs, checking the light bulbs and smoke detectors, and checking a myriad of details as he prepares to leave for two weeks holidays. He and Bro Joe Lockwood will go to Palm Springs. As a matter of fact, they will use the time-share condominium that belongs to my parents. This is the fourth year that they go there (I believe) and both have been looking forward to it… for month!!!

That reminds me of something that I was once told by don Giuseppe Usseglio, professor of moral theology of the UPS at Torino-Crocetta when I was a student. It was the first day of August 1978. I had just returned from a month at Saint Jacques in the Alps with the boys of the Oratory of the Crocetta and I was lugging my sleeping bag, backpack, briefcase upstairs. My mountain boots were strung on long laces over my shoulders. I was sunburned and my hair was longer than usual (yes I wore it long in those days). Don Usseglio, who rarely spoke to me outside of class, asked me how the month went with the young people (he used the word "giovani" rather than "ragazzi").

Still halfway up the flight of stairs, but moving to the right so that he could pass, I told the professor that the month of July had gone well and that all the "giovani" remained enthusiastic for the experience. I must have broke into a smile as I recounted all this, using the youthful language of the kids -- one summer with them enormously improved my speaking ability in Italian.

He smiled too and said: "And you? You have remained enthusiastic as well?"

"Sì, sì," I responded, "molto entusiasta!"

"Ah," said the moralist, taking on the tone of a soothsayer, "very well, very well -- but do not let it disconcert you, like those who have one month of holidays but ten months of nostalgia (un mese di vacanze e dieci mesi di nostalgia)."

I nodded and laughed and said my good day (buona giornata) to which he responded his (bon dì). I let him pass and then continued to struggle up the stairs to my second level (read 3rd floor) bedroom. After a month in the Alps, I would have thought that I could have managed the three flights of stairs more easily! Yet by the time I got to my room and threw all my gear on my cot, I was a bit disconcerted over the exchange. Was my morality professor giving me a cheerful warning? Was it a corrective? And how in the world did he know that I always was so homesick for summer? Well, no doubt Don Usseglio been watching me for three years, and it must have been more obvious to others than it was to me… but he was perfectly correct. One month of holidays and ten months dreaming about them!

Okay, end of my little nostalgia piece. Marc leaves tomorrow for his vacation, and Arthur goes away for three days. Duoc will go camping for a short time… only John Rasor and I will be left at the house, nostalgic no doubt.