a package

the mail brought us a small craft paper package tied with a bright green ribbon- straight from california.

its contents made me laugh out loud. then i got teary eyed.

my dear friend katie hand stitched a onesie for Enzo.

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on becoming a ragazzaccio.

the label in it's traditional form doesn't quite fit this sweet baby.

i could tell he had some feelings of his own, and i watched each reaction he had after i dressed him in his onesie.

discomfort with his new title:

some reflection:

and then some more:

throwing his hands up in an italian "oh!" seemed to do the trick:

next came inner peace:

and finally honor:

i am enzo. and i am a ragazzaccio.

*********************************************** the back story*************************

katie and i were companions in cento celle, on the outskirts of rome. you get used to the sounds of city life very quickly in italy. i had to ask about some of them, others i figured out.

1. a few honks of the horn, as the car would pass our intersection.

meaning: one step up from the "california roll". italians don't even pause at some stop signs, merely honk to let anyone else who may be passing that they are approaching & to take any necessary precautions.

2. the sound of a siren. not the same whirring sound of the US sirens.

meaning: emergency vehicles. the sound is just different.

3. the sound of yelling in any convo (i've said it before…)

meaning: it's 9 times out of 10 not a fight, merely a lively discussion about anything really. their last menu, or the outcome of a soccer game…

I lost count of the times I heard "Enzo" yelled by a boy or teenager calling his friend down from his apartment, or from down the street. Then they'd usually jump on their vespas and be off.

the name for these boys is a ragazzaccio.

ragazzo meaning boy.

accio meaning bad.

not to be derogatory, it's a term of endearment for me- so nostalgic. the term for me brings back the city life of rome. rome awakened a part of me i didn't know was asleep.

it brings memories of

loud discussion,

running to catch a bus,

an italian accent trying to pronounce our names,

the honks,

vespas,

walking down the street eating pizza in the rain

hearing the name Enzo

and like rome did for me, this sweet baby enzo has breathed new life into our family and awakened the part of us we didn't know was asleep.

we are complete. and that's a good feeling.