River

They say you can't put your foot in the same river twice. As I gazed at the banks of the Arno river in Florence, I knew it was true.

I was 19 when I first I saw the golden light on the river.

I had just arrived in Italy for my college junior year abroad. A gaggle of boys chased me down Ponte Vecchio, vying for my attention with shouts of Ciao bella. Because I was lost, I asked one of them for directions, and incredibly he eventually became the first love of my life, my very own Room With a View. Of course he also told me that his other car was a Lamborghini and his uncle was senator Alphonse D'Amato, and I was so naive, I actually believed him. When I found myself in a New York City elevator next to D'Amato 20 years later, I was tempted to ask if he had a nephew in Florence, but then I decided it was better not to know.

I returned to Italy as an aspiring singer-songwriter and recent college grad. I took my place alongside the other buskers, strumming my guitar in front of the piazzas and cafes, singing for coins and smiles. It was my preventative mid-life crisis. Some days when it rained I had no money for food. One night during Easter when every pensione in Rome was sold out I slept in the train station. Alone in Italy with just my guitar and first generation mac book for comfort, it was often scary, but I knew I had to have this adventure before settling down.

Five years later, I returned to Italy on my honeymoon, as a giddy newlywed, full of love and dreams of happily ever afters.

And now, 19 years later, I retraced my Italian honeymoon with my 80 year-old father and 13 year-old son. Rather than the flock of boys who wooed me on Ponte Vecchio, only one man (who was a family friend) greeted me with, Ciao bella. Yet I feel like Maurice Chevalier in Gigi. I'm glad I'm not young anymore. I don't want to be that naive 19 year-old or ambitious 23 year-old or even the starry-eyed newlywed.

I like being a mid-life divorcee. I love being a mother to my wonderful son and a good daughter to my fascinating father. We laughed everyday of our Italian adventure. I had more fun with them than I did on any other trip to Italy.

There's something to be said for knowing who you are, what you value, where you live, what you contribute and who you love. I was so full of dreams and questions and uncertainty when I was a student. I was so worried about my identity and what I would do to support myself as a new college grad. I was so blissfully happy and ignorant as a young bride.

Now I am two feet on the ground: I traded my college ballet flats, flea market Feragamos, and honeymoon kitten heels for sensible Cole Haan walking shoes.

You can't put your foot in the same river twice. Water rushes on. Life, time and people rush on. That is what mindfulness is all about - be here now, because it will never be the same again.

I am grateful to have splashed in so many streams. I am grateful for the rivers in my own backyard. Heres to all of us dipping our toes in the cool waters of spring.