Silver Linings, and my Argentine Lover
An excerpt from the book "Far and Wild" with photos of South America
Dear Reader:
It’s been about 40 days since “Far and Wild” was published on Amazon, and I am just starting to hear feedback from readers. So far…so good! Everyone seems to like the book. The comment I hear most often is: “I want to know more!”
I am humbled by this response. It’s nice to hear that people want to hear more about my life and experiences traveling as a single woman. That’s the purpose of my newsletters — to add additional tidbits not included in the book.
In this newsletter I’ll expand just a bit on Chapter 12 from “Far and Wild,” titled “Argentine Lover.”
Old Lovers
As I mentioned in my last newsletter, I had a few lovers during the 20 years I traveled to over 100 countries. That should not surprise anyone. I was, after all, a healthy human being with normal needs and desires, yet without a regular partner. “La vida pasa rápido, hay que disfrutar” is an Argentine expression meaning:
Life is short. Enjoy it!
I tell a few of those stories of risk and romance in the book, that is without getting into risqué details. A girl should keep some secrets to herself!
Below is an excerpt from the story about my Argentine lover. I learned a hard lesson from the experience.
From the moment I met him, I sensed danger. I felt it like a chill down my spine. This man is the bearer of a lot of trouble, I thought.
But our passion was too great to be curtailed. I liked him, and we moved in together. When he invited me to his home in Argentina, I thought: Why not? I didn’t have a winter gig lined up, and by then, traveling to a new country was becoming second nature. So I left for South America, where I spent a long and terrible winter. The man was like a summer storm that relieves the heat but leaves devastation in its wake.
Once in his country, I slowly discovered his ugly truths, and they crushed me. We took trips to the astounding Brazilian Iguazu Falls on the border of Argentina and Brazil, and once to the coast, but we were too busy fighting and running from each other to enjoy the sights. Exhausted and bruised, I returned to Italy at winter’s end. But he was not with me, and I missed him. This is the insanity of passion.
My dearest Italian friends knew that something was wrong. Emotional devastation was written on my face. They tried to save me from the abyss, but it’s hard to find the exit door when you are inside the whirlwind. The “Queen of the Caletto,” so adept at solving other people’s problems, could not solve her own.
Against all advice from those who had my best interests at heart, I returned to Argentina to try again with this man whose dangers both attracted and repulsed me. But nothing had changed. The same toxic dynamics existed between us. Promises were made but not kept. I knew I had to leave him.
Traveling through South America
As you can guess, that relationship did not last. You can read how it ended in “Far and Wild.” The short version is that to get that man out of my hair, I backpacked through South America for a month, full of great emotion. Here are a few pictures from that time:
Good Friends
As anyone who has been through a bad breakup knows, it’s all too easy to bounce back and forth like a yo-yo, in and out of the relationship until it finally dies an ugly death.
As so many times before in my life, it was my dear friends who helped me. They pulled me out of the yo-yo trap. They literally took away my phone and locked me in a room until I was finally done with that man.
The Silver Lining
We all go through hard times. The trick is to find the good in them, what Brant calls the “silver lining in every dark cloud.” I found mine in an odd place — the optometrist’s office.
Argentina has excellent and cheap eye care, so I went in for an exam while living there, hoping to rid myself of glasses with LASIK surgery.
“I’m sorry, madam,” the eye doctor said, reviewing my test results. “But you are not a candidate for LASIK.”
“Why not?” I asked.
“I’m sorry to tell you that you have a very serious condition. You have glaucoma.”
I was perplexed. I never had any problem with my eyes other than needing glasses, and none of my prior exams had shown a problem.
“What does that mean for me?” I asked the doctor.
“The disease is quite serious. If left untreated, it can lead to permanent blindness.”
I left his office in shock. I got a second opinion in Italy that confirmed the diagnosis. I have glaucoma. My doctor and I treat it as aggressively as we can, but with every examination, I learn that a bit more of my eyes have died. It is possible that one day, I will no longer clearly see the sights and scenes that stir my heart.
So why is learning I might go blind any kind of a silver lining?
Because if I had not visited that Argentine optometrist when I was in my 30s, there is a chance my asymptomatic glaucoma would not have been discovered for many years. As it is, we caught the disease early and have been able to slow its ill effects, giving me many more years of good sight. I am happy for that.
And so, dear reader, I wish for you sunny days, and when dark clouds come, as they inevitably do, you may find the silver lining in them.
With all my love,
