Just days before Christmas in 2018, I took a flight from New York City to visit my family in southern Italy. My wife, Elvira, and daughter Caroline had moved to a small town in the countryside a few years earlier, and I planned in due course to join the festivities permanently.
I’d made the trip before, once or twice a year since they moved, mainly to get the lay of the land. But this time was different. Caroline had recently had her first child and our first grandchild. And now, after making do with photos and videos, I was finally going to meet Lucia Antonia, all of 11 weeks old. Rarely in my life had I felt more giddy about an encounter in the offing.
