Practicing Being Where Our Feet Are

People are sometimes curious about how we split our time between Northern Virginia and Italy. Someone recently asked if we'd choose one over the other, but we don't really see it as a choice. At least for now, our life stretches across both places.

Lucca feels like home too.

Even when we're in Lucca, we're working remotely on East Coast time, so most of our mornings are spent enjoying Italy before our workday begins in the afternoon.

Some mornings feel like a vacation, but most days are simply life. Our mornings in Lucca often feel like mini getaways, and our weekends give us room to explore and soak in the beauty of Italy. But day-to-day, we're living life in Lucca just as we do anywhere else: doing laundry, grocery shopping, paying bills, managing the property, overseeing renovation projects, and handling the many responsibilities of maintaining a centuries-old home while running a short-term rental abroad. Just in Tuscany.

When we're back in Virginia, we're managing bookings, handling guest communications and operations, while staying connected to the ongoing projects, friendships, and life we're building in Lucca. We've developed relationships with people who call Lucca home year-round, and we've learned that maintaining those friendships across distance requires intention. We can't simply return and expect everyone's lives to pause...they have their own routines, commitments, and rhythms.

No matter where we are, a part of our day seems to be rooted in the other place, so we're truly straddling both worlds. We've learned that two things can be true at the same time: Italy can be magical, with its beauty, history, and everyday moments that continue to inspire us, while Virginia can be deeply meaningful, with the home, friendships, and memories we've built over more than two decades. Missing one place doesn't mean rejecting the other. It simply means we've been fortunate enough to create a life that connects us to both.

We never set out to choose one life over another. Right now, we're grateful for the ability to move between both places and experience what each one offers. When we retire, we hope to spend more time in Italy, but exactly what that looks like remains to be seen.

Maybe we'll eventually choose to live in Italy full-time. Maybe we'll continue splitting our time between two places for as long as we can. For now, we're learning to be fully present and grounded wherever we are. We spend plenty of time discussing the possibilities and what the next chapter might bring, but we've also learned that no amount of planning can predict exactly how life will unfold. So we're trying to appreciate the season we're in, knowing that the right path will become clearer when the time comes.

Sometimes We Overlook What's Close

We live in a suburban community under an hour outside of Washington, DC, yet months can go by without us making the trip into the city. People travel from around the world to experience the nation's capital, but for us, it's easy to become complacent. The urgency to explore fades when it's right in your backyard. Meanwhile, in Lucca, we don’t take that proximity for granted in the same way. We’re always up for exploring something new. Maybe we're still in the honeymoon phase, but I don't think so.

The Other World is Lucca

While the city itself is centuries old, our life there is still relatively new. Every visit brings another nearby town we haven't wandered, another café to try, another winery to discover. We love that we can walk, bike, or hop on a train almost everywhere we want to go. Even though we exercise regularly no matter where we are, our days in Italy are naturally more active: carrying home bags of groceries, walking to dinner, spending far less time behind the wheel. We easily log 20k steps a day in Lucca just living our lives. In Virginia, it takes real intent to even get close to that same number.

The Emotional Pulls

On our last trip to Lucca, my mom, who lives just a mile from our Virginia home, had a serious fall and ended up in the hospital. Being an ocean away when someone you love needs you is one of the hardest parts of straddling two homes.

Our kids are grown now, too, building lives of their own. That's exactly what every parent hopes for, but it also changes what "coming home" means. Our oldest son is finishing his PhD and has built a life in the Netherlands, where he will likely stay. When we're in Lucca, we're only a short flight away from him, which is a gift we don't take for granted. But there's also a trade-off: being closer to one child means being farther away from our other two sons, who will likely continue building their lives in the US.

We're so grateful when we can have all of our kids In one place.

It's one of the realities of this season of life. Our kids are no longer all gathered around our dinner table or waiting for us to come home. Instead, we're learning how to stay connected across distances and appreciate the moments when we are together. Family time looks different now. It may not happen as often as it did when they were younger, but the time we do have together feels even more intentional. Whether it's having everyone home in Virginia for the holidays or meeting up for a family adventure in Sardinia, we don't take those moments for granted. Maybe this season is less about quantity and more about quality: fewer everyday moments together, but a deeper appreciation for each one.

And home is more than just the people who live there. In Virginia, it's the friends who have watched our family grow and shared decades of milestones with us. It's the neighbors and friendships built over years, the trails we know by heart from countless runs and walks, the changing seasons we've experienced from the same windows, and the traditions that only exist because we've lived in one place long enough to create them. It's the house where our children grew up, filled with memories from the years when our family was all under one roof. Many of our friends are also in a season of traveling right now, calendars filling quickly with vacations, visits to kids, and family adventures of their own. Our schedules don't always line up, so even when we're home, it can take weeks before we finally catch up. Connecting requires a little more intention than it used to. One of the things we've come to appreciate most about our time in Lucca is the sense of community. That's not because we lack it in Northern Virginia...we're incredibly fortunate to have a wonderful circle of friends and neighbors. But in Lucca, community takes on a different shape. As we've returned over the past few years, we've grown friendships and gotten to know the local shopkeepers, restaurant owners, and neighbors. We see the same faces every time we visit. Conversations pick up where they left off, and familiar smiles make it feel more like home.

Living in Italy Isn't Always Romantic.

Sometimes the most ordinary tasks are challenging. For example, back in December we switched internet providers. We completed the form and returned the router to the old company so assumed everything was finished. Months later, we're still being billed. Apparently, one section of a form wasn't completed correctly, but despite multiple attempts, we still haven't been able to get a clear answer or resolve the issue.

There are lots of other things like that. They aren't necessarily bad, just reminders that everyday life has its own unique challenges in Italy, especially compared to the DC metro grind we know so well back home. Sometimes the simplest errands require a bit more patience, flexibility, and a willingness to laugh when things don't go according to plan. Over time, we've found ourselves slowing down and accepting that not everything needs to happen on our timetable.

A daily stop, not just a weekly one: our neighborhood produce shop in Lucca.

In Virginia, we love visiting our weekly farmers markets, but they're just that, weekly. In Lucca, our neighborhood produce shop is part of our daily routine. We stop in, and the conversations are as much a part of the experience as the food itself. They tell us what's in season, what's at its peak flavor, and how they like to prepare it. They ask when we got back to Italy, how long we're staying this time, and even tell us about their own travels. More than once, we've walked out inspired to cook something we hadn't even considered.

Ordinary Errands Become Connections

Sometimes the most simple errands in Lucca become opportunities to connect. Instead of ordering a light bulb online or driving to a big box store, we walk a block to our neighborhood lighting and electrical shop. The owner greets us, helps us find exactly what we need, and asks how we're doing before we ever talk about the purchase. Those small interactions add up: the vendor at our vegetable stand, the shop owner who recognizes us, the barista who knows our order without asking. Repeated over time, they create a sense of connection and belonging.

It's made us reflect on life back in Northern Virginia. We've lived in the same community for 23 years, yet it's surprisingly rare to run into the same people at the grocery store, coffee shop, or a restaurant. Community there tends to happen through planned gatherings and long-standing relationships rather than casual, repeated encounters woven into everyday errands. Part of that is pace, we drive from place to place, checking things off a list, and part of it is structure: there simply aren't as many small, neighborhood shops in daily life, so when we need something specific, it's often easier to default to a big box store or order online rather than return to a familiar face.

In Virginia, the barista might write your name on a takeaway cup. In Lucca, chances are they'll remember it the next time you walk through the door.

A House Doesn't Make a Home

One of the things we've learned through living between two places is that a home isn't defined by its size, its location, or even how much time you spend there. Our home in Virginia is the house where we've raised our family. It's larger, filled with years of memories, and holds the stories of our boys growing up: holidays around the table, birthday celebrations, family gatherings, and the everyday moments that become meaningful only when we look back.

Our apartment in Lucca is much smaller, but somehow it feels like home the moment we walk through the door. We've decorated it over the years with things we've found at antique markets, pieces from the antiques dealer turned friend we've gotten to know over the years, treasures discovered while exploring other towns, a few items brought over from Virginia, and family heirlooms that have found a new place to belong. Although it's a short-term rental when we're not there, we have an owner's closet filled with the things we pull out when we return: a tablecloth given to us by Dario's Aunt in Bergamo, family photos, and personal touches that remind us we've built a life there too.

Our apartment has also become a place where our two worlds come together. Friends and family from the US have visited Lucca with us, and some have even stayed there while exploring Italy on their own. One of the unexpected joys has been watching people we love experience the place that has become so meaningful to us. Sharing our favorite walks, restaurants, markets, and little corners of the city helps them understand why Lucca also feels like home to us.

And some of our favorite moments happen when our whole family is together there. When all three of our boys can make it to Lucca, they squeeze into one bedroom like they did in Virginia when they were little. The room in Lucca is significantly smaller and they're all now men, so they might not appreciate it as much as we do! The apartment may not have the room our Virginia home does, but it holds something just as valuable: the memories we're still creating.

Coming home to Virginia isn't the same without these two.

This year also marks another change. For the first time in nearly two decades, we won’t be coming home to furry family members waiting for us. We lost our 19-year-old cat in the spring and our dog a few years ago, and their absence changes the way home feels.

FOMO

One of the things we've learned from living between two places is that each one has its own beauty, and each one has something we'll inevitably miss when we're away.

Whether we're in Lucca or Virginia, getting outdoors helps us actually notice where we are. In Virginia, it's the winding trails through our community, the changing seasons, and the abundance of wildlife. In Lucca, it's walking along centuries-old walls, wandering historic streets, and finding life spilling into the piazzas. Both places are beautiful, just in completely different ways.

Turtles seen sunning themselves on my run in Virginia.

But living between two places also means accepting a little bit of FOMO (Fear of Missing Out). No matter where we are, there will always be something happening somewhere else. In the spring we arrived back to Lucca just after one of my favorite events, the spring garden show that transforms the city walls with flowers and displays. And while we're enjoying our time in Italy, we miss things happening back in Virginia, like a friend's birthday or a spontaneous dinner we would have joined if we were home.

We are realizing that the goal isn't to experience everything. It's to be fully present for the moments we do have.

Europe is in the middle of another intense heat wave and we're grateful to be back in Virginia enjoying the luxury of central air conditioning as our own temperatures spike over 100 degrees.

Lucca Gives Us Adventure, Challenge, and the Chance to Keep Growing

I'm still learning Italian. We're still making friends. We're still figuring out how to build relationships with people who live there year-round while we come and go throughout the year. None of it happens overnight, and maybe that's part of the lesson.

Bike rides on Lucca's walls is one of our favorite things about living there.

We spend a lot of time talking about the future: retirement, where we'll spend our time, and what life might look like in the years ahead. The honest answer is that we don't know. Our oldest son is building a life in Europe, while our other two sons will likely remain in Virginia, but life has a way of surprising us. When grandchildren eventually come along, we know being close to them will become a priority.

Maybe we'll continue straddling these two worlds for as long as we're able. Maybe there will come a time when traveling back and forth no longer makes sense, and we'll need to make a different choice. We know that day will come eventually. But for now, we're grateful that we have the opportunity to experience both.

It's easy to spend your time wishing you were somewhere else. When we're in Virginia, we miss evening walks on Lucca's walls and spontaneous train trips. When we're in Italy, we miss family dinners, familiar routines, and people we love.

Two Things Can Be True

We're learning that neither place deserves only half our attention, so we're practicing being where our feet are. We rarely leave Lucca without having our next trip already on the calendar. It's tempting to come home and immediately start counting down the days until we're back in Italy. Instead, we're trying to appreciate the life we've spent decades building in Virginia, knowing that Lucca will still be there when it's time to return.

Maybe that's the unexpected gift of living between two worlds. It reminds us that contentment isn't found in a particular place. It's found in paying attention to the life that's right in front of us, wherever our feet happen to be today.