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Inspired by the Monthly Writing Challenge The next few weeks mark two years since the pandemic really hit home here in Italy. While we were under the international spotlight as the virus exploded across parts of the country and into the global headlines, we still had no sense of what was to come.   Swiftly, we went into lockdown as the world watched slightly aghast at the strength of the measures. We were very much restricted to our homes. One family member could go out to the supermarket, food stores or chemists. We had to carry papers justifying why we were out and we were expected to be within 200 metres of our home address unless we couldn’t access food or medical supplies within that limit. We queued up silently, two metres apart, in masks and gloves, not even daring to speak to anyone, to nervously do the food shop. In our home, in central Rome, we heard the birds and people singing and tried to block out the only traffic sounds in our neighbourhood, that of the ambulances he
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Fulfilment - The Monthly Writing Challenge

  Written for The Monthly Writing Challenge set by @Ethical_Leader Fulfilment The end of a year is always a very pointed time for reflection. So many marvellous and wonderful things happen in our lives, some of which we don’t stop to notice, others work beautifully to counterbalance the challenges and frustrations we absorb daily. This year, like the last, has been one of adaptation to whatever the normality of the week might be and we find ourselves constantly buffeting around our plans until they take on a shape that will do, for now at least. Fulfilment of intended actions, longed-for dreams and desired realities may well have been put on hold or dimmed until easier times. The year that has passed has been one of new focus for me. Thinking of what is present in my own circumstances, taking account of what brings me joy and what makes my heart feel happy, in all the aspects of my life. It has been a year of a significant re-evaluation of what fulfilment means to me. It hasn’t bee

Forty Years On

Calabritto non c’è più. Calabritto is no longer there. I was woken suddenly from my sleep by my mother holding me tight, grabbing at my shoulders, sobbing out those words. It had been an odd night, I was conscious of movement around me, the muffled sounds of strange voices through the walls of our flat. It was still dark when she came to tell me, I was confused and the desperation in her voice made me cry too. I couldn’t fathom what she was saying, it made no sense. At 7.34pm on the evening of 23 rd November 1980 an earthquake of magnitude 6.9 had its epicentre in the Irpinia region of Campania, in southern Italy. Mainly a collection of small villages, linked by winding roads through lush, forested land largely untouched by modern development. Sitting on its hill, at the foot of its mountains, was Calabritto. The place my parents had grown up and left, the place where my grandparents still lived, where we went every summer, where we had documented family roots back to the 1400s.