Thursday, September 23, 2021
My mother was born on June 1, 1929, as was the Great Depression. Her birth was not uncommon for many people of southern Italy. My mother’s father lived in Baltimore, and provided for his family in Italy. Periodically he would return to Italy which would result in another child being born. Shortly after she was born her father returned to the United States He died in 1950 and my mother would never know him. Although she was raised without a father, she did not lack paternal guidance, having had two brothers sixteen and seventeen years older. She also had a sister, ten years older, with which she would spend the majority of her life with. Her brothers, although diverse in occupation were very similar in character. Both taking on roles of head of the house. Her older brother, Giuseppe, studied for the priesthood(typical of first born). However, he disrobed shortly before being ordained in order to pursue a career for which he could better provide for his family. He would go on to be a Postmaster for the Italian colonies in Africa which resulted in him being a civilian prisoner of war for seven years. After the war he progressed to the position of Director of the Bank of Italy and was made a “Cavaliere”(knight). Her other brother, Pasquale, remained in their hometown of Sant’Andrea Ionio, Calabria. A master furniture maker by trade, he married his childhood sweetheart and fathered three wonderful children. My mother was at her sister Victoria’s side for most of her life. She was a dressmaker par excellence and taught my mother most of her trade. My mother had hands of gold and my aunt had hands of platinum. There are many stories that can be told of life during the depression, fascism and war torn Italy, but needless to stay all impacted the way of life. My parents lived nearby in a their thousand year old town on the coast of the Ionian Sea. Both their fathers lived and died in America and the rest of the family remained in Italy. That is, until 1950, when my aunt moved to New Jersey with my Uncle Alfredo( another Alfredo) who was a World War II veteran and returned to his home town to find a wife. Three years later, my grandmother followed her to help with their new family. Three years afterwards, in 1956, my parents, both in their twenties, with a three year old son and eight month old daughter were allowed to come to America as refugees of a earthquake that impacted Calabria. From that point on the two sisters and their families were inseparable until the untimely death of my aunt in 1994. The life that my parents lived in America was typical of post war generation from their home town. Adapting to the American way of working, saving and providing for the family while retaining the traditions and culture of their beloved Calabria. Their social life revolved around their relatives and paesani, but mostly with the immediate families of the two sisters. The first winter in America was cold and snowy so my father could not work at his trade as a mason. He was forced to collect unemployment. The first house that we lived in was a rented three family flat that was previously lived in by my aunt’s family in the center of Paterson. Nearby, were many factories that supported the New York fashion industry. With only the unemployment money coming in my other took a job in a factory that produced women’s blouses for $1.00 an hour. The plan was that she would only work until the spring when my father would return to work. However, after she saw the first paycheck, there was no turning back. She continued to work until she retired at 60, becoming the sample maker and eventually the fore lady of her shop. With both working, they were able to build their home within seven years of coming to America. Although, my father made most of the money, my mother ran the house. She did the banking, the buying, the bill paying, cooking(along with my grandmother) and cleaning. She also stayed on top of our schoolwork. She was the Chief Operating Officer to my father’s Chairman of the Board( or so he thought). There wasn’t a day that went buy that we didn’t have a four course dinner and a homemade cake on hand. The food was delicious and early pictures of me can attest to it. When my sister an I married to two great people both of my parents adopted them as their own. I believe it is unusual to have both a son-in-law and daughter-in-law that love and care for their spouses’ parents like theirs did; but both did in their own way. The lights of my parent’s life were their granddaughters. Their concern, care and love for them was unparalleled. From sowing clothing for them to providing cash gifts for every occasion, including their own birthdays the love our children showed to their grandparents reflected the love they received from them. The affection did not stop with their granddaughters as all three of their husbands can attest to. The food just kept on coming. Recently, a third generation of the family had entered the scene which only added to the the enjoyment of family they so much loved. Unfortunately, the time for them was limited but will not be forgotten as the granddaughters will carry on their traditions and memories. The last two years of my mother’s life were bittersweet. She lost her beloved husband of 68 years in February 2020 at the age of 93. Followed by the COVID-19 pandemic and everything associated with it she became a different person. She did however remain independent as much as she could, living in her home alone. My sister and her family made sure she had what she needed and my family called her from Florida daily. My cousins and her friends also called her and for this my family is forever grateful. As days pass, the memories of the past two years will fade and those of the great lady that she was will remain.
