Zeb Moments - Tears and the Parthenon

Tears and the Parthenon

In July of 2001, we took a trip to Europe that carried us through Italy and Greece. There were six of us, including my family, my brother Tim and my Mom. We were part of a tour group that started in Rome, traveled to Florence and Venice before taking a ferry across the Adriatic Sea to Greece.
I had already spent three weeks in late June traveling across China in an exhausting but life-changing journey that left me emotional, weary and awed at the very places I had been lucky enough to see. Ashley had put together this travel plan for us, and included my Mom, whom we both wanted to give the chance to travel.
I had always joked that when we traveled, we needed to have a beach or mountain for Ashley and some ancient ruins for me. This trip had a plethora of both. Already, my cup was filled to the brim of amazing sights and events when we continued to stuff it full until I almost felt I would burst. It was dizzying, but a blissful disorientation that made me only appreciate the wonderful monuments of the ancients even more than I had before.
That day, we had awakened to the city of Athens and began our tour of discovery. I didn’t know how others felt, but as I walked the steps of ancient temples and entered the gates of the Acropolis, I almost felt as if I should remove my shoes. These places were as holy as any other places on earth. The towering presence of the temple of Athena and the Porch of the maidens watched over a bustling city below. Pieces of column and wall scattered the grounds waiting for patient archaeologists to repair the jigsaw puzzle left behind by long dead Turkish cannons.
Like a balloon filled to the breaking point, my heart ached with the beauty and majesty of the white marble remnants of ancient Greeks that almost causally scattered among modern city structures. I was a historian in the midst of History heaven.

Our group ate at a local restaurant that evening. The late afternoon sun had just descended as we entered the large dinning room. A pianist played lush versions of standards and recent musical numbers from the back of the room. The room was made with a huge picture window facing the acropolis and the Parthenon, now bathed in the bright light of spotlights. The Acropolis, which by law in Athens must be the highest point in the city, towered over our group as a reminder of greatness of generations gone by.
Ashley excused herself briefly and upon return, said “I have something special for you.” It was then that the pianist began playing the song, “My Funny valentine.” The song is an oldie. It dates back to an old Broadway play called “:Babes in Arms “ from 1937, but I had given a version by Elvis Costello to Ashley in a mix-tape while courting her. That song, along with the changes I had gone through in my journey across China, the discoveries of Italy and Greece finally overwhelmed me and the balloon burst. My tears ran uncontrollably. My chest shuddered and air caught in my throat.
But, they were not tears of sadness. It as not pain that made me cry, but the realization of so many dreams at one time! I was overcome. And I knew, I would never be the same after what I had seen and done.

“A single dream come true is worth a thousand realities.” JRR Tolkien