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I grew up traveling the World. By the time I was 10, I had lived in Virginia, Germany, Spain, Colorado, California, Italy, and Greece. I had also traveled all over Europe, the US, and Egypt. I definitely have gypsy blood in me! Everywhere we traveled and lived, my parents made sure to immerse us in the culture. We ate squid in Greece; pastries in Spain. We visited the Louvre and it seems like every cathedral, museum, and castle. We toured windmills and visited relatives in Amsterdam. I remember the Sistine Chapel vividly and have a beautiful painting of the Spanish Steps. I grew up appreciating art, food, and travel. And as I had a family of my own, I made sure we got “culture” whenever possible. Of all the places I have visited, Pompeii stood out the most. Imagine going there at age 7 and being able to walk through the ruins. I remembered seeing a mummified child lying next to their parent, obviously trying to escape Mount Vesuvius. I remember the reverent feeling, knowing families died together. I also remember feeling peace and awe. While some 7-year old’s might have been distraught over the tragedy, I remember feeling true fascination. And, I knew that had my parents let me, I would have stayed there for days. As I got older, I researched Pompeii and anytime there was an exhibit involving Pompeii, I was there. I knew that I had to go back. It was as if something or someone was calling me to return. Fast forward to when I was 45 years old. My family planned a Mediterranean cruise. I told everyone that I didn’t care what else we did, I had to go to Pompeii…..with or without them. Well, luckily everyone agreed they wanted to go. Imagine my surprise and thrill to know that it was exactly like I remembered. Well, mostly, the “bodies” that had been in the streets before were now incased in glass. And there were areas that were cordoned off….as a child I could roam freely through and explore everything. I walked through each site that was open to the public. I specifically went into each place when no one else was there. Again, I felt a reverence and I sensed the presence of the people who lived there. I could imagine the lady pumping water; the little boy playing with a toy; the men laughing and talking. I climbed the steps in the arena, imagined the events that took place there; and I felt the love in the homes; the camaraderie; the trepidation as they heard and felt the eruption Mount Vesuvius. It was as if I had stepped back in time and I was with them. Again, I felt like I could have stayed for days. I wanted to know everyone’s story. I wanted to study the art on the walls and the floors. I longed to learn all of their histories: their hopes and dreams; their fears and their faith. I took countless photos and was truly inspired by the beauty of their architecture; their art; and how carefully it’s being restored. Since that visit nearly 7 years ago, I have continued my study of Pompeii. And! I have shared my excitement with my husband of 3-1/2 years! He watches documentaries and is nearly as fascinated by Pompeii as I am! He will get to see it first hand in few months when I take him to Italy for his first time! I am looking forward to spending days there, learning more about the people, and perhaps writing a book about the people I’ve “met” each time I’ve visited this beautiful place, being their voice, telling their stories, sharing their legacies. Because although a tragedy occurred there so many years ago, this is a place of love and peace. The people who lived there left a legacy of beauty and genius that has survived for centuries and holds a special place in my heart.