Dear Matteo 106 Months Old

Hello from Rome!

We’re entering the third day of a 2.5-week trip through Rome, Naples, and Crete. This is your second trip to Italy and definitely one you’ll remember more than the first, when you were here as an infant. It will also be our first trip to Greece as a family, and I haven’t been back to visit Aunt Pam in nearly two decades. I can’t give a great reason for why it’s taken so long. There are simply too many exciting places to see in the world, and the travel time and costs are no joke for a family of four.

This is a trip your Mom has been waiting for ever since we met. Soon after we started dating, she had the idea that we’d someday go to Greece because of my family connections there, and seventeen years is a long time to wait! Sorry, Amanda — and thank you for your patience.

Rome has been a wonderful start to the trip. We recovered quickly after the long flight from home through Reykjavik and spent our first evening walking the neighborhoods around our Airbnb just north of Trastevere. Yesterday, our first full day in the city, my watch recorded about 25,000 steps, which was probably closer to 35,000 with your shorter legs. You and Eliza were troopers.

We visited the Pantheon, the Trevi Fountain, and the Colosseum — all the major tourist sites. You also put your new Camp Snap camera to work, taking photos everywhere we went. Because the camera has no screen, we won’t know how the pictures turned out until we upload them back at home. Mom and I are always looking for small ways to reduce screen time and the instant gratification that comes with digital devices whenever we can.

After checking off the major landmarks, we made it to the destination you and Eliza were most excited about: the Torre Argentina Cat Sanctuary. Uncle Sergio told us about this place, where older and disabled cats are cared for among ancient ruins where healthier cats roam and play. We learned that the nonprofit shelter has spayed or neutered nearly 100,000 cats and helped control Rome’s stray cat population. But honestly, none of that mattered to you as much as getting to pet a lot of cats! Several were blind, and all of them were friendly. You spent most of your time running around with your Camp Snap camera taking photos of every cat you could find.

We’ve already eaten some amazing food. Cornetti in the morning filled with chocolate or pistachio. Tonnarelli with ragù. Rigatoni al dente with pesto. Endless gelato — with your consistent flavor choice being mango every single time. I can understand how Romans get away with eating so many carbs. When you’re not eating, you’re walking them off on the way to the next restaurant or café.

Today we’re heading back to the Vatican for a proper tour. Your Mom and I visited when Eliza was a baby, but we didn’t have a guide. This time, I’d like a better understanding of the art and architecture. It’s also an interesting moment to visit with Pope Leo, the first American pope, now leading the Vatican. I keep joking with you that we’re visiting his house.

Tomorrow we check out and head to Naples, where my Nonno and Nonna were from. We’re planning to visit Uncle Vince and Aunt Carla, see Pompeii, and possibly spend some time in Sorrento. We will eat all the Neapolitan pizza we can, and I can’t wait.

Love,
Dad

Dear Eliza, 126 Months Old

We’re back from another trip to Indiana.

This was a good visit. The last couple have been shaped by Grammie’s passing—the emotional weight of that loss, and the work of packing up the family home and preparing it for sale. This time felt different. It was more about Popa—settling into his new home, enjoying time together as an extended family, and reconnecting with friends.

We kept busy in simple, meaningful ways. We ate at Culver’s and enjoyed their top-notch custard. We went geocaching along the riverway. We played tag at an empty Jury Park while all the other kids were in school. We went thrift shopping at Goodwill, where you found an oversized black hoodie that says “Jesus Loves You,” with a Bible verse on the back—an easy yes from us. Wear your heart on your sleeve and God on your back. We spent a beautiful 70-degree sunny day at the Fort Wayne Zoo. And we ate at 800 Degrees Pizza while watching a serious downpour turn the parking lot into a lake—the kind of storm only the Midwest can deliver across those flat plains. I ran six miles one day and had an elevation change of 28 feet. It’s flat out there.

In between all of that, you had quite a bit of iPad time because, honestly, there’s not a ton to do around Popa’s house. I got you started on Duolingo ahead of our Italy and Greece trip, and you’re doing a great job picking up the language and practicing your Italian. We should have started earlier! You also loved a game called “I Am Bird,” where you basically fly around and poop on people in a town—or at least that’s what I gathered. Not exactly educational.

We also looped you in on something important—helping deliver an iPad to your brother. His Kindle Fire had been “glitching,” and he was literally leaning over you to watch a screen that wouldn’t stop jumping. I asked you privately if you were okay with him getting one, since you waited until you were 10, and you thoughtfully said he was “responsible enough.” You presented it to him when it arrived, helped him get set up, and showed him how to ask for permission before using it or downloading apps. That was real leadership. I appreciate your big sister instincts more than you know.

We had a bit of family business to take care of as well—going through the final storage bins that belonged to your Mom. We packed an extra suitcase, just enough to bring home stacks of photos and family albums. I was a little nervous walking into the unit, expecting more, but was relieved to find just five neatly stacked bins, not even all full. Your Mom did an incredible job making thoughtful, efficient decisions about what to keep, give away, or let go.

On our way out, we spent time with your cousins, Abby and Mason. Abby broke out the slime supplies, and you happily made gooey creations together. She’ll be coming to visit us for her college senior trip with some friends, and I think that will be a really special time for you—getting to spend time with older girls and see that next stage of life up close.

As we head back into our rhythm at home, I keep thinking about how these trips are changing. Less about logistics and loss now, and more about connection, memory, and the people who shape us. You’re growing into such a thoughtful, kind, and capable person, and it’s a gift to watch how you show up in these moments—with family, with your brother, and with the world around you.

Love,
Dad

Dear Matteo, 105 Months Old

We got snowed in.

The ski season had been admittedly dismal, so when a big storm was finally in the forecast—over two feet—we were excited.

I came up on Wednesday night, a day ahead of the rest of you, planning to ski the start of the storm on Thursday with Uncle Scott. I was so excited I arrived a couple of hours before the lifts opened and was one of the first cars in the lot. Unfortunately, the freezing level was too high, and Thursday morning turned into a short session on what felt like an ice rink. Still, more snow was coming.

You, Mom, and Eliza arrived Thursday night, and we held out hope for colder temperatures and better conditions. The plan was to spend the weekend at Uncle Scott’s new cabin while they headed out to Mission Ridge for a ski race later on.

That night, the snow started falling hard. By morning, we woke up to well over a foot of fresh snow—and no power. No problem.

We had a wood-burning fireplace for heat and a generator system Uncle Scott had set up for exactly this kind of situation. With trees down at the resort, we decided to stay in that morning and wait for updates on roads and lifts.

Then we lost internet and cell service.

No power. No communication. Still… mostly no problem. Except I had work to do, and that clearly wasn’t happening. Meanwhile, the snow kept coming. By midday Friday, we had more than two feet at the cabin, with no sign of it stopping.

I started digging out the driveway to give us a chance of getting the truck out. Your Mom’s SUV wasn’t going anywhere. Even if we made it to the end of the driveway, the road hadn’t been plowed—we were officially stuck. Thankfully, we had plenty of food and running water. You and Eliza made the most of it, playing outside and building sledding runs on the hill nearby.

By Friday night, your Mom and I decided to start rationing propane for the generator. We had already gone through a couple of tanks and weren’t sure how long we’d be there without any updates on road conditions. We were roughing it—but also having a blast. You and Eliza read your bedtime books by the fire, using our phones as flashlights to stay warm.

By Saturday morning, even more snow had fallen. We were just shy of three feet in three days.

I walked to the community center and managed to get a connection on Starlink. I was able to let everyone know we were okay. I also learned that the highway and the ski resort were still closed—though by then, skiing was the last thing on our minds.

Your Mom and I decided to keep digging the driveway and give ourselves a shot at getting home that weekend. I shoveled another stretch out to the street, and soon some neighbors joined in. A group of us cleared the rest of the block together, not knowing when a plow would arrive. Meanwhile, you and Eliza were busy building snow caves, completely carefree.

After hours of digging, we felt ready to try.

We packed up the cabin and loaded the truck. Ours was the first vehicle to attempt the uphill out of the street. The F-150 Lightning proved itself. We pushed through deep snow, backing up, charging forward, and carving a path as best we could. I’ll admit—I was a little worried about pushing the truck so hard—but after a few long minutes, we made it to the top and onto the main road.

What a rush.

Driving down Highway 410 felt surreal. Familiar roads looked completely different, lined with towering snowbanks and scattered tree debris. We passed crews clearing fallen trees and carefully made our way through a single open lane back toward civilization.

In the end, we didn’t ski at all—but it turned into one of the best winter weekends I can remember.

The four of us made a great team. We adapted, worked together, and found a lot of fun in an unexpected adventure. Honestly, we may have enjoyed it more than a typical weekend at the resort.

That’s one for the family history books.

Love,
Dad

Dear Eliza, 125 Months Old

Welcome to your Tin Can era.

Over the past few months, you’ve cautiously started asking when you can get your own phone. That makes sense—some of your friends already have them for a variety of reasons. In some cases, like Bennett needing one to help manage his Type 1 Diabetes, it’s clearly necessary.

For parents in my generation, the age when kids get phones—and access to social media—is one of the most debated topics. That’s because there are real risks and behaviors that come with it. Your Mom and I have decided to wait until high school before getting you a smartphone. I expect that decision will lead to some disagreements over the next few years, and that’s okay.

At the same time, I know that tweens (that’s you) want more independence and more ways to connect with friends. I’ve been there. Your Mom can tell you about the hours-long phone calls she had with her friends growing up. And honestly, it helps us as parents too—not having to coordinate every social interaction.

That’s where the Tin Can comes in. It’s a great in-between step toward more independence and responsibility.

We ordered one for you and Matteo for Christmas, and after a long wait due to high demand, it finally arrived!

The Tin Can is intentionally simple. It’s a screenless, internet-free phone that looks and feels like an old-school landline, with a corded handset and physical buttons. It even has a dial tone and those familiar sounds when you press a number. At the same time, it’s designed for kids. You can only call and receive calls from numbers your parents approve through an app.

I’ll never forget the first time you made a call. You had to dial Grandma’s number yourself, quickly and carefully finding each number. Once it started ringing, you instinctively held the phone to your ear instead of looking at it like a video call. You introduced yourself, carried on a conversation based on what you heard—not what you could see—and without filters or emojis. Your Mom and I helped with a few prompts along the way.

After that, you called a friend with a Tin Can on a couple of consecutive nights, and you’ve received a few calls too. I have to admit, it’s a little strange not knowing who’s calling, but I also forgot how fun that surprise can be.

What I love most is that you haven’t become glued to it, and that’s exactly the point. Unlike smartphones or even iPads (which you now have), the Tin Can isn’t designed to keep you hooked. You use it when you actually want to connect, not just because it’s there.

I hope you lean into that. Spend time in real conversations. Build friendships through talking and listening. That’s something I really loved at your age—and for now, it’s your only option!

Dear Matteo, 104 Months Old

We are coming off a fantastic ski trip to Whistler.

We started the weekend at the Ballews’ for some cousin time, also conveniently cutting the drive with an overnight stay in Bellingham. I’m glad you and Eliza get along so well with your cousins. You made home movies on the iPad and spent a lot of time on the punching bag.

We hit the road from Bellingham the next morning, right in time for a snowstorm that blanketed the mountains with a fresh layer of snow. We got after it upon arrival and had so much fun that first day, skiing mostly on the Whistler side. We went to Samurai Bowl, our favorite restaurant in the village, and slammed Korean fried chicken, rice, and soup to end a great first day.

Because of the storm during this otherwise low-snowpack winter, the lines the next morning to get on the gondola at the base were long—and I mean blocks long. A staffer told me he hadn’t seen morning lines that long in the 13 years he’d worked there! Thankfully, those Canadians know how to move crowds, and we got on the Blackcomb gondola in just 45 minutes. That’s like a fast Disneyland line.

We stayed on the Blackcomb side that day and dealt with the longer lines. We also took our time and ate waffles at the famous Crystal Hut. It’s hard to beat loaded waffles on the mountain. What a treat. You and Eliza kept great attitudes as we skied a long day before heading back to the hotel, packing up, and meeting Mike and Jen at their swanky Four Seasons condo, where we stayed the rest of the trip. We took advantage of the awesome pool, hot tubs, and free treats throughout the day.

That high-end Four Seasons service is something else—especially the ski valet. Because the Four Seasons is a decent walk from the Blackcomb base, they actually keep your skis, boots, and poles at a facility right at the base. You just walk over, give your name, grab hot chocolate and baked goods while they put your warm gear out. The staff even offered to put on ski boots for you, which we declined. That’s just too much help. At the end of the day, you drop your gear off again, put on your walking boots, grab more drinks and treats, and head back to the hotel. I’m telling you, it doesn’t get much better.

I know you had a blast at Whistler because of your great attitude—especially skiing an afternoon with Mike and me when we went up the Glacier chair and skied a lot of black-diamond moguls. Although our legs were cooked by the end, you said multiple times you weren’t sure if those runs should be blacks or blues because you had such an easy time with them. Don’t get too overconfident on those runs. We can always improve our skills getting down.

You also got a little confidence check when you fell on an icy flat spot and hurt yourself enough to slow down for the rest of the afternoon. You never know when you’ll take a hit on hard runs or easy ones, so stay alert.

This was also the last ski day on your shorter skis. You’re growing in height and ability quickly, so it’s time to move you onto some new-to-you Atomic Bent Chetlers that should help you ski even better and with more stability at speed.

Fresh powder, good food. What a great family weekend.

Love,
Dad