My son changes his internet sign-in name frequently. Last week it bemoaned the passing of yet another spring break. This week it seems to be celebrating song lyrics.
This afternoon, we were attempting to find an address he had lost. When we lived in CT back in 1986-1991, we lived around the corner from some dear friends who attended the same congregation we did. They are Italian, and their son and mine enjoyed one another thoroughly, even though there was a three-year age gap, J being older.
We shared all sorts of little memories. Like the clown suit J wore when he did his acrobatics routine for a tumbling recital. He passed it on to A when he outgrew it. Even though it was way too big, A loved putting on that costume, complete with the red foam ball with the slit just perfect for his little nose. I have a picture of him in front of a huge split-leaf philodendron in that clown suit that is just precious. Thank goodness for elastic at the wrists and ankles or he'd probably have ended his brief life just trying to walk around in the thing.
That was the same recital in which J's older sister danced ballet and wanted more than anything for her hair to be French braided for the occasion. Never having done it in my life before, and wanting rather badly at the time to know what it might be like to have a girl in the house again, I did my best to do my very first French braiding. It turned out much better than I ever expected. (No they aren't that hard, but I'm not that coordinated either.)
One of the fondest memories I have of them was when they invited us and a visiting brother over for dinner one evening. You talk about good food! We spent the entire evening around the dinner table. We'd talk awhile and the next course would come from the kitchen. Talk some more, eat some more. Clear down to dessert and time to go home. When I saw the closing of the Night in Tuscany video that Andrea Bochelli did, I immediately thought of our evening with the Vigliottis and knew we had experienced a true Italian meal. It was absolutely heavenly; one of the most enjoyable evenings in memory.
Unfortunately, when we came home to OK, we didn't keep in touch well. Last we heard from them, the family had taken a trip back to Italy and A received a postcard from J. That was probably 1992. I think they did know that A was born; that was '92.
At any rate, we had some friends contemplating a move to CT who were wondering where they might park their travel trailer when they got there, so we got on the phone with the Vigliottis. Why my dh chose them I don't know. We do have a few other phone numbers of friends we had in that area, but V's must have been the first he came across that actually worked. Of course we had to catch up on all the news first. J. was married and living in Florida. We got his address because A wanted it. I wrote it down twice--once as R dictated it as he got it from J's Mom and a second time on a sticky note to give to A.
Who lost it.
And this was why I was using his computer to get on the net this afternoon and noticed that his sign-in name had something in it about a "hopless heart." I had to laugh. He doesn't always have the time to spell correctly. :) So I asked, "is a hopless heart one that has stopped beating?" I get his signature grin and he reddens a bit. I love it when I get him.
We found J's address. I didn't know at the time, but the reason A. wanted the address was to send J a picture of himself and his P2P crew that was taken while they were at that big ancient arena thing in Rome. Begins with a C. If I spell it wrong here, I'll never hear the end of it. :)
To old friends and fond memories.............
