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Living
Together
. Alas,
Ask Gola is No Longer, plus Gola's Gone ...
For those of you who've been following this story, you'll remember that, back in February, very uncharacteristically, Gola di Montagni -- our advice columnist -- missed her deadline. We told you we'd found, somewhat belatedly, an e-mail from her, which she asked us to pass along to her readers. ... As it turned out, she'd gone to Florida on the spur of the moment. We expected her back last month, and she expected to be back herself. But as the deadline drew nearer, we heard from her again. She asked that we meet her in Florida. She had something to tell us that she preferred to say in person. So, off we went, right after we published the last issue. As we said before we left, from the sound of things, it seemed very much like Gola had been doing some serious soul-searching. And when we finally caught up with her, in West Palm Beach, she told us straight away that she would not be coming back. It seems that, after her unexpected departure back in February -- unexpected not only to us, but to Gola herself -- she began to recall a childhood dream she'd had. "I can't say whether it was actually a dream or a daydream," she confided. "I may have have seen something in an old National Geographic. I'm not sure, but I can easily imagine going to the library in grammar school and opening up a magazine, and seeing these pictures of the Florida Keys. ..." The more we talked with Gola, the more we discovered that, having grown up in Providence, it seems she always had a dream of going south, to the Keys, to the beginning of US 1, and, from there, starting a journey north that would take her, over time, to she wasn't sure where. "I remember seeing those pictures of the causeways, stretching out over the turquoise waters ... the white sand beaches, and the palm trees leaning against a strong breeze," she recalled. "It was strange. I could almost hear the wind through the palm fronds." But, evidently, it wasn't until the day after she got off the plane in Florida that any of that had come back to her.
"I arrived at night," she said. "It was already dark, and though I could see the silhouettes of the palms as we left the airport, nothing of it brought to mind the vivid scenes I remember from my childhood." But when she woke up next morning ... "I was staying with my folks, who moved down some years ago, after they retired. When I stepped outside that first morning, the wind was at a steady breeze." She closed her eyes slightly as she spoke now, then continued. "I saw the strong sun on the palms, the flowers in the gardens along the walks. But there was something in the air, something mingling with the wind maybe, but all of a sudden, those images of childhood came flooding back." ... We spent the better part of the day with Gola when we got there, then had dinner together that evening. Throughout, we spoke on and off about this childhood recollection of hers. But we also spent long moments in silence, particularly on the beach. ... The more she spoke, the more we could tell that there was no talking her out of it. "I know it sounds crazy," she'd said at least several times. "But if I don't do this ..." Each time, her thought trailed off as she seemed to gather herself, into something too private for us to follow. At one point, she offered the following: "It was Jung, I think, who said something like, 'Fate leads those who follow, and drags those who don't.' ... It probably sounds corny, or overly dramatic, but that's what it feels like. I have to follow this because it feels like my fate." ...
The next day, we followed Gola down US 1 to Key West -- the beginning of the highway, and, most likely, the beginning of a vita nuova for Gola. On the way down, when we hit the first of the causeways that opened up over the vast waters, we pulled off to the side of the road and we all just stared at it for a good long while. ... It was easy to see how someone could fall for this place in a big way. Down in Key West, we grabbed lunch together, then said our good-bye's. "I appreciate the opportunity you gave me to write for DownStreet," she said. "And tell the readers I send my regards and best wishes to them, ok?" Ok. ... On the flight back, we were talking about Gold and her new life. Then, suddenly, it occurred to me that, after profuse apologies in her original note to us back in February, then again when we spoke on the phone and she asked us to come down to meet her, this time, not once did she offer up even the most cursory sort of apology. I wondered if it shouldn't have irked me, at least a little. But no matter how much I tried, I couldn't find a place inside me that made the prospect of an apology seem like anything other than petty on my part. I even tried, for a brief time, to convince myself that she managed somehow to diffuse something that shouldn't have been diffused. ... But try as I might, I couldn't find a place where it seemed like anything less than perfectly alright. ... Arrivederci, Gola ... You will be missed. And God bless you in your new life. Sincerely, ... With Gola's departure, we're looking for a new advice columnist. ... Are you our new advice columnist? If
you'd like to apply for the position of advice columnist E-mail: askgola@downstreetmagazine.com . ******* ******* If
you would like to Ask Gola a question, why not send it along to ... . |
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