It happened one night... a Magpie Tale

It happened one night, long time ago. I was young, vibrant. Italy and its magic romanticism. It was more than 21 years ago and I can still feel the crisp breeze of Venice with the small intricate alleys and the multitude walking, dancing, singing, living a carnival night. Masks were mandatory; Bellini the drink of choice. St.Mark’s square was never more crowded yet intimate, sublime. And there I was, believing in destiny and totally willing to make it the night of my life.


Today is my daughter’s wedding, my little girl. I am in my room, in front of my dresser, looking at myself in the mirror, brushing my hair, getting ready for the big event. I open one drawer and there it is: the little mahogany box engraved to perfection… a box that has been with me for more than 21 years…all the memories flashed right back: my long deep blue satin dress, purple and golden mask decorated with peacock feathers, our walk in the middle of the night. He was the mysterious dandy in a perfect black Italian suit, sober gray mask with just an elegant discrete glitter that with the moonlight seemed sometimes silver and others light purple, but all times sexy. His voice was deep, like a caress… his seductive moves gave me no room for second thoughts. He kissed me under Casanova’s balcony… we’ve got lost in an endless embrace, our hands belonged together, we were part of the crowd yet were alone in Venice, living the greatest love affair, my dream.

My daughter comes in to my room looking for her grandma’s broach; she is stunning, a mix of childish innocence and yet such a confident woman. I see her getting in and saw the same 4 year old that used to rush in to play dress up with my shoes, necklaces, makeup; I guess that’s how mothers see their daughters no matter how old they get. The moment she gets in I instinctively hide the box from her; is not the time, nor the place. Today is her day. She takes the broach, gives me a quick butterfly kiss and storms out when her friends, the bride’s maids, are calling her back to her room to continue with the ritual. Then I went back to my box, my memory box...the next morning we were still together, went to a cozy café and ordered two ristrettos with pastries; we talked, we laughed, we looked at the people walking by. He excused himself for a minute, and the nice waitress approached me and asked - “how do you do it?” I didn’t understand her question, so I replied with an apologetic - “excuse me?” and she confirmed back - “yes, I want to know how do you do it, what is the magic, for him to look at you like that, is like nobody exists by you…” I was floating, my heart was pounding, my brain was totally lost in the moment and then he came back, with a box wrapped in quaint paper, almost like the kind used in hardware stores, brown with gondola motif. “This box is for you, for you to remember me by and it is for me, to always remember where I met my angel…and it is for us, and only for us, to never forget that we belong together, just you and me, even if we have other people in our lives, people that may be more important or that may take more time from both, this is a homage to the greatest love affair of all times” - I was speechless …we kissed, he touched my nose, we giggled and hugged once again.

I put on my mother of the bride dress, wear the special pearls and color my lips with a pinkish gloss. I take a last look at myself in the mirror, to see me again, more than 21 one years after …my hair is now shorter, grayer, my face showing some lines… I close my eyes to take a deep breath, my hand softly touching the box, my box… our box… and then I feel his arms around my waist, the same voice that melted my heart  years ago - ” Are you ready, my angel? Our girl is waiting for us… I think you are, you look beautiful” - I open my eyes and look at him in my mirror, his eyes still giving me the same look that took my breath away in Venice - ”Almost my dear, just the final touch”- I opened the box and took the bottle of perfume, Italian cologne to be precise, the same one that sealed our pact after that magic night and that I only wear when I am with him, with the love of my life, my one and only, the only one.

For my husband, my best friend...my everything.

This is a Magpie tale - Mag 33 - for other Magpie tales click Magpie Tales