Menopause, Madness, and a Countdown to Italy

 

Ah, menopause—a time of hot flashes, mood swings, and the constant battle between wanting a snack and forgetting what you even walked into the kitchen for. But let me tell you, right now, my mood swings are on their best behavior because I’m counting down the days—nine days, to be exact—until I jet off to Italy with two of my sisters! It’s our first-ever “just us” trip, and I’m equal parts thrilled, nostalgic, and already concerned about how many gelato flavors I can sample before they cut me off.

Now, before I continue, let me take a moment to sing the praises of my husband. This man deserves a medal for surviving my menopausal mood swings with grace, patience, and the occasional strategic retreat. He’s been my rock through every teary meltdown, random burst of laughter, and moments of irrational annoyance when the Wi-Fi doesn’t work fast enough. Honey, if I could pack you in my suitcase, I would—but only because you’d probably help me remember where I put my passport.

Back to the trip! While I’m overjoyed to be traveling with my sisters, my heart aches a little knowing my youngest sister couldn’t join us. She’s busy conquering the business world like the powerhouse she is—seriously, I couldn’t be prouder. I’ll miss her terribly, along with my husband, kids, grandkids, and even my dog (who probably sympathizes with my mood swings more than anyone else). But don’t worry; I’ll make sure they all feel like they’re right there with me through my endless stream of photos, courtesy of my trusty camera.

Now, I’m not just your run-of-the-mill tourist with a smartphone; I’m an amateur pro photographer. Sure, I’m still learning, but that won’t stop me from trying to capture every breathtaking view, bustling piazza, and plate of spaghetti carbonara in all its glory. (Disclaimer: If you follow me on social media, prepare for a LOT of artistic shots of cappuccinos.)

And then there’s Rome—a city that’s both timeless and currently in mourning after the passing of Pope Francis. Italians take this process to heart, with traditions steeped in history and reverence. The Pope’s body will lie in state at St. Peter’s Basilica for public viewing, and there’ll be a series of Masses and prayers leading up to the funeral at St. Peter’s Square. The Vatican observes a nine-day mourning period known as the novemdiales, and the atmosphere in Rome will no doubt reflect this profound time of reflection.

Meanwhile, I’ll be navigating the city with my camera slung around my neck, layers of menopause-friendly outfits, and a sense of wonder that only Italy can inspire. Stay tuned for updates as I sip espresso, admire the Sistine Chapel, and maybe accidentally photobomb a cardinal.

To my youngest sister, husband, kids, grandkids, and everyone else I love: you’ll be with me in spirit, in my thoughts, and definitely in the endless FaceTimes where I’ll show off my amateur photography skills. Wish me luck, and let’s hope I don’t pack so many camera lenses that I forget to leave room for souvenirs!

Ciao for now!