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December 21st seems to be the perfect day to just cut onions. For the third year in a row, I’ve done something profoundly special—something Laura would have absolutely loved. What stands out to me is how, each time, I feel a little more at peace with whatever it is I’m doing, compared to that first “just cut the onion” moment two years ago:

I spent a month in Tuscany over Christmas and New Year’s—a place that became central to our relationship. We fell in love with the people, the food, the landscapes, the small medieval towns, and our little aperos by the pool at Il Paluffo. It was a dream of ours to spend a whole month there during the winter, to feel like we truly lived there. The idea felt overwhelming at first. I remember talking about it with Martina—this amazing woman who was helping me at Krebsliga Schweiz—on my birthday, just weeks before I left.

I don’t know if it’s a good idea to go for a whole month... it feels like too much, I told her.

In my opinion, it’s good that you’re going. And worst case, you’re not far from home—you can always come back if it doesn’t feel right.

That small piece of encouragement was all I needed to pack my bags and go. A few days after I arrived, I decided it was time to really “cut the onion.” Just being there felt like hosting an onion festival already, but I took the car and drove to San Gimignano for gelato at Gelateria Dondoli: Gelato World Champion in 2006/07 and 2008/09. It was a tradition of ours—something we never skipped when visiting Tuscany. The two times we couldn’t stay at Il Paluffo, we found an agriturismo in San Gimignano and practically lived on gelato every evening.

Back in 2021, we had sent a selfie outside the gelateria to our friends Cornelius and Franziska. I tried to recreate that selfie during my visit, but my smile wasn’t quite there. Looking back at that photo now, I can see it: the look of someone whose pain was indescribable, eyes lost and teary, and a smile that just didn’t feel right. I barely recognize myself in that picture. But what matters is that I did it—I went there. I got my cone with three flavours: Crema di Santa Fina, a cream flavoured with bourbon vanilla pods from Madagascar, San Gimignano saffron pistils, and Pisa pine nuts; Rosemary Baby, a fragrant raspberry flavour with the aromatic freshness of rosemary; and last but not least, Pistacchio.

If you know me, you know I’ve never liked pistachio ice cream. That changed in Sorrento, Italy, in 2020 when I discovered how much real ingredients matter.

Last year, I was in La Isleta del Moro, a small fishing village in the Cabo de Gata Natural Park, part of the Tabernas Desert in Spain—the only desert in Europe. This was Laura’s favourite place from the two months we spent on the road at the beginning of 2022, just a few months before she died.

Being back there with the camper, doing the same walks with the dogs, and eating at the restaurant where we celebrated her last birthday—that’s cutting the onion. It was incredibly hard, but it was also incredibly beautiful. Each day got a little easier, and that’s what it’s all about.

And now, December 21st, 2024, I’m here again. Sitting in our camper after a one-hour sunrise walk with the dogs to the cliff where I scattered some of Laura’s ashes, as I promised her. I smiled the whole way, and I could feel her smile with me—it’s the most beautiful view.

Just cut the onion. It’s worth it.

Have you had a ‘just cut the onion’ moment? I’d love to hear about it. Leave a comment or reach out to me.

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And if this story resonates with you, check out my other blog posts for more about healing through love and connection.

 

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