In their space...

Almogia, Spain

After being mesmerized over Steven’s photographs from his last trip to Spain, I have been dying to see for myself whether the fields of flowers, stretches of meadows, olive trees, ocean views, white-washed villas and tapas were simply a trick of his photography or the promise of another world.   I will soon see it all for myself and give my brother the pleasure of speaking Spanish for me (I’m way behind in my Rosetta Stone studies), sharing his knowledge of Spanish wines, tapas bars and the beauty waiting for us there.

I’ve created three separate itinerary scenarios that will take us north, south and in between driving through the country vistas our ancestors walked so many years ago in their quest for a new life.  I truly cannot imagine their hardship as I get up in the morning, pour myself a cup of coffee in a large airy kitchen from an electric coffee pot with just the flick of my finger.  I can’t imagine our ancestors working from dawn until dusk, feeding animals, gardening vegetables, working in their orchards, baking all their bread, killing their animals for food or bartering with neighbors in trade for the items they couldn’t grow and create for themselves. 

Yes, we will be in their villages.  We will stand under the same sky, walk on the same streets, and breathe in the same air.  We will essentially be Spanish in Spain and feel the rush of ancestral memories invade our souls as our anxiety to learn about them pushes us forward. 

My cousin, Patte, sent an email today that put it so aptly… “....you must be over the moon with excitement.”   And my reply to Patte?  “¡Absolutamente!”