Evening Red and Morning Gray Sends the Traveler on his Way

I'm really doing this, it seems. I'm leaving for Italy tomorrow. I'll be flying from Boston to Newark, then Newark to Milan, and then Milan to Bologna. I'll take a train from Bologna to Ferrara, find a hotel, check in and sleep the rest of the day. Well, that is if everything goes according to plan. But we'll have to wait and see.
The past week has been interesting, and on the whole pleasant. I saw a chicken cross the road one morning. It really had no reason as far as I could tell, since staying on its own side of the road really would have been the much safer option, but fortunately my dad is a good driver, and doesn't want our neighbor getting angry if she were to lose a chicken. (Any of you who have seen my neighborhood, you are correct: it is no place for chickens. Or cows. But, Shirley seems to think otherwise. I digress.) I got to see some friends, spent New Year's at Shannon's house, and sat in on part of a rehearsal at my high school's fantastic new black box theatre. I just finished the last dinner that I will share with my family for quite some time. It was an excellent dinner, with delightful conversation - everyone was in a good mood, if a bit tired, for my brother moved into his new apartment today and so he, his girlfriend and my dad spent the day moving furniture. I won't be able to see it until I return from Europe, but I am told that it is in a lovely Jewish neighborhood, so I am sure he will be just fine. As soon as he buys some plates, glasses, pots and pans and learns how to cook.
As for me, I think I will be just fine, too. I was freaking out for a while, since it's all so big and unknown, but I finally realized (thanks to a phone call with Laura between the hours of 1:30 and 3:00am this morning) that this big and scary thing is made up of small and manageable components. I don't need to do everything all at once. Italy as a country is rather chill, I hear. No one seems to be in too much of a rush. I have everything I need and everything is backed up. My bags are packed, except for my computer and my toothbrush, and tomorrow afternoon my parents will drive me to Logan Airport and I will fly away.
It's good. It really is.
(I watched some home videos of my great-grandmother's nintieth birthday party. She told story after story of her life - her childhood, her family, and the trip from Italy to the United States when she was a newlywed girl of fourteen. I'm going back, Nonnie. Thank you for the stories, and the history, the good lies and the memories, and all the reasons for my return.)