Finding Peace in Rome

We left Mike behind in Israel for a few weeks to pack our things and to sell and ship our cars AGAIN.

On November 3, 2023, just short of 30 days after the attacks, I boarded a flight for Rome with three kids, two cats, two surfboards, and two pieces of luggage each. That was it. No home waiting, no plan beyond a hotel reservation, and the fragile assurance that Mike had a seat in the NATO Senior Staff Course beginning in February.

When people talk about “moving,” they picture boxes and trucks. Our move was more like an evacuation wrapped in hope.

As we boarded the plane, the tension of the past month hung in the air — that steady hum of alertness we’d lived with since October 7th. I remember sitting there, watching the kids settle into their seats, and feeling the quietest flicker of guilt that we were leaving while others couldn’t. But survival is sometimes the only choice that makes sense.

In Israel, the Middle School Principal, a kind and compassionate man who understood the chaos of our departure, called his counterpart at the American Overseas School of Rome (AOSR). That one act of kindness changed everything.

Within days of landing, I was sitting in the AOSR office with Dr. DiMatteo and Mrs. Sarah Ellyson, who both went above and beyond to help us find our footing. My children hadn’t been in school since September, first because of the Sukkoth holiday and then because of the war. They arrived with no grades from the first quarter and only four weeks left in the semester.

We had to make tough choices quickly. Because we’d missed the AP test registration deadlines, both boys lost all their AP courses in the move. Nic, who had loved his AP Seminar class filled with international perspectives and a teacher who truly inspired him, took that loss hard. But safety and stability came first. They understood that, even if it didn’t make it easier.

Mia, true to form, bounced back faster. Within two weeks she joined Middle School Basketball and was laughing with new friends after practice. For the boys, it was harder, no winter sports, abrupt goodbyes to close friends, and new classes to master before exams hit in December.

We had no car, no permanent housing yet. We were being assigned a NATO apartment nearly 50 minutes from the school, and until we moved in, life was a rotation of hotel rooms, shuttle schedules, and adjusting expectations. Thankfully, AOSR ran a reliable bus system for both school hours and after-school activities — a small grace that made our days manageable.

When I say that AOSR saved my sanity, I mean it. The teachers, parents, and staff didn’t just welcome us; they absorbed us. They gave my children structure and belonging when everything else felt temporary. By Christmas, I was flipping burgers and serving hot dogs at the Booster Bar for the school’s Family Holiday Event, finally feeling like we were part of something stable again.

By spring, life began to feel normal again, or at least as close to normal as it could after everything we’d experienced.

Mia joined Middle School Volleyball, found her rhythm, and filled the house with that familiar energy only a middle school team season can bring. Nic started training with the Track & Field team, rediscovering the discipline and community that sports always gave him.

And then there was Carson.

At the start of spring, he was cut from the varsity soccer team. To this day, I’ll never fully understand what happened. There were no injuries, no drama, just a tryout decision. He handled it better than I probably did, shifting his focus to running track, staying busy, and doing what he could to keep his head up.

But about a week later, everything changed again. The soccer coach showed up at track practice and asked Carson to come back to the team.

Much to Zaka, the Athletic Director’s, frustration.

Let’s just say, I don’t think I was on Zaka’s list of favorite parents that week, and honestly, I can’t blame him. There were rosters, waivers, and layers of admin red tape to navigate to get Carson reinstated. I tried my best to stay calm, to be reasonable, to not go full “sports mom on a mission.” (It was a close call.)

But in the end, it all worked out.

Carson went from being cut… to starting in goal for every single game for the rest of the season, all the way through to the European Championship Final.

Even now, as a coach myself, I still don’t fully understand how a varsity goalie goes from being cut to being the guy in a matter of weeks without any injuries in the mix. But I’ve learned not to question the gift fairy on this one.

Because Carson needed that team — and those boys — more than they needed him.

Doc, the goalkeeper coach, pushed him harder than I’ve ever seen a coach push an athlete. Carson came home bruised, bloodied, and happy every single day. It was exactly what he needed: discipline, camaraderie, and a reason to focus forward again.

As the semester wound down, it finally felt like life had found its rhythm, busy, beautiful, and full of motion in every direction.

Mia spent a week on her “Without Walls” trip in Puglia, exploring southern Italy with her classmates, learning, laughing, and rediscovering what freedom felt like. A few weeks later, she was north of Venice playing Beach Volleyball at the Med Cup, her sunburned grin proof that joy had made its way back into our lives.

At the same time, I was traveling to European Championships Week with Nic, who had qualified for High Jump and the 800 meters, one of only two AOSR athletes to make it that far. Watching him compete, surrounded by teams from all over Europe, was one of those surreal “we made it” moments. His first Euros, his first international championship meet and he showed up like he belonged there placing 8th in Europe in the 800 meters and 13th in High Jump.

Meanwhile, across town in Ramstein Germany, Carson and his soccer team were making their own European Championship run, one that would become unforgettable. After a grueling week of matches, AOSR made it all the way to the Championship Final, ultimately finishing second after a heated showdown with Naples. The match was electric, the kind of game that pulled the entire DODEA Europe community together, either cheering for AOSR or, let’s be honest, against Naples.

When I look back, I still can’t quite believe the timing of all three kids competing, traveling, and living fully again after such a heavy year. There was this beautiful sense of closure in it all, like the world was giving us a season of redemption after so much uncertainty.

When we returned from Euros, the celebrations continued in true Roman fashion. Nic and Natalia, the only other AOSR athlete to qualify for the championships, decided to attend Junior Prom together, and I don’t think I’ve ever been so thrilled to take prom photos.

Prom in Rome, what a setting. Photos in front of the Colosseum, dinner and dancing on a rooftop overlooking the Roman Forum, the lights of the Eternal City twinkling behind them. American high school kids dream of a prom like that, and mine got to live it.

That spring was more than just a return to normal. It was a reminder of resilience, of how life finds a way to bloom again even after chaos. And unanswered prayers coming to life!

Rome gave us that. Stability, community, laughter, and the chance to remember who we were before sirens and shelters defined our days.

By summer, we were packing again, this time for Bahrain and a new Middle East adventure but we left Rome with something priceless: the memory of a season that healed us and friends I will cherish for a lifetime.