Dear Hubby,
I am writing this as a bus drives us from the palace (built in 1572) of a count, to a city on a hill.
Isn’t there always a city on a hill?
My tummy is full of the exquisitely prepared, four course meal, prepared by a Michelin Star Chef, served with wines, handpicked by a wine expert.
All who are empty are filled to beyond satisfaction.
My accommodations for this trip have been at the estate of the most hospitable hostess, whose husbands family first built the estate in the 1600s.
“Come away by yourselves to a secluded place and rest a while.”
Yesterday I toured the private family chapel at the estate, where I am staying. It’s ceilings and walls hand-painted by father and son. It was a place of cool solace on a hot and dry Tuscan day.
“There will be a shelter to give shade from the heat by day, and refuge and protection from the storm and rain.”
I so appreciate this gift that was beyond my ability to receive all those months ago, when you shared this for me. You were able to dream for me so much more than I am able to dream for myself.
Your love for me is so visible through all that I see, and hear, and smell and taste.
It is unhidden and I it see so clearly.
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