We arrived at the Medea Beach Resort in Capaccio in the dark of night. We were handed keys and a phone number and asked to surrender our passports. When we refused, they agreed that we could send photos via What’s App to the front desk. We were sorted two to a room. Chris and I hauled our bags to the 3^rd floor and were pleased to find a clean 10 x 14 space with an armoire, small desk, serviceable bathroom, and a lovely little deck with a view of the ocean in the distance. While unpacking we discovered some things that belonged to the kids, so we walked outside to deliver them several rooms away. On the stairway, we passed several people dressed in hazmat suits delivering suitcases to the room adjoining ours. With current negative tests and our confinement due only to close contact, the thought of someone with COVID sharing an entryway was disconcerting, so when we passed the hotel director in the courtyard we asked to be moved. Angrily he scolded, telling us we would be fine and that we aren’t allowed to be outside. I persisted, begging to be in the room next to my mom. Finally, he acquiesced, “Ok, you can move. Get your things. But if you go outside again, the police will be called!”

After a late dinner and a restless night’s sleep, we awoke to a new day and hopeful perspective. We are comfortable and can get what we need upon request. The difficulty getting information has moved from frightening to frustrating, and in Italy, the pasta is always good, even when served cold!

Meals are delivered three times per day to chairs that are placed in a 4×4 foyer. A knock on the door lets us know when it arrives. We now share the foyer with Mom and Linda and can greet them three times a day when we gather our meals. They are in a slightly bigger room but with no patio, only a window. Jonah, Lianne, Liv and Tyler are on the 3^rd floor toward the ocean in two rooms that also share a foyer, one with a balcony and one with a window. Being outside in our own spaces in the back appears to be acceptable, so Team Seng meetings are held multiple times per day from our balconies, windows, and patio with texting even more often in our group chat affectionately labeled by Olivia, “Quarantini.”

Informational What’s App numbers were provided, but responses were initially sparse. With no idea how long we are here, if there are testing protocols, or what requests we can make, we were grateful for consistent contact with Sara, our dear friend and dedicated advocate from Semester at Sea. In touch with Will via text, we learned he and three others who tested positive were taken to a different hotel about an hour away. He shared messages describing unclean rooms, some without windows, and a hotel staff with no idea who they were or why they were there. Chris persisted with Fabio, the Quarantine Hotel Coordinator, and hit a nerve when he let him know our son was not with us. “I understand, Chris. I have a son too. I will be in touch,” he messaged. A glimmer of hope brightened the day as we journaled, read, and watched movies. Chris started an on-line chess game with the boys, and we committed to a number of push-ups, sit-ups, planks and jumping jacks each day. We learned how to request coffee which is not standard fare with breakfast and order bottles of wine and beer, each wish delivered to our foyer chairs with a knock on the door. As the day came to a close, we tossed chocolates to the kids’ balcony and toasted the beautiful sunset before settling in for another night.

A beautiful shower of sunlight brought us all to our respective outdoor portals the next morning. Discussing what we knew (and didn’t know) to date, I heard a familiar voice. “Mom? Mom, they have me in prison over here!” His voice emerged from behind the blinds on the patio next door. “Will?! Push the button to the right of the glass doors.” Ever too slowly, the shades raised and our eldest son, our dear, sweet, beautiful Will, emerged. Tears welled, and it took every ounce of will-power in my bones not to rush to hug him. He is well. We all are. We are navigating the unknown together, and no matter what happens next, we are blessed. In spite of it all, it is still a wonderful life!