A Week at Roccamonfina

The departure date was getting close—I'd almost stopped hoping for it. There are times when I'm always ready to go. But I need to know ahead of time so I can arrange my vacation days. They told me everything over the phone: what to pack for three days, shirts, pants, socks, all that. I was happy to get in the car and drive down the highway, heading far away to the place. Really, I'd been there the year before, and I recognized it—the church, the rooms in the convent where people live and lead a monastic life. I was with Fabio in one room, other guys in other rooms. During the day there were different things to do: the pool, the pizzeria, karaoke in the evening. It was a good thing for me, being in a place like that, with the woods and the walks on the trails. I had company—people I know from my community like Daniela. Then I learned the names of the others who were with us: Luisa, Manlio, Stefano, Roberto, and Maria Agnese. When the last day came, I went to Mass, had the Eucharist, and rested. When it was time to go back, there was some sadness. But there was happiness too in returning to Rome—not for work, which we do anyway, but for the weekend.