After a little absence of two weeks, returning home from Italy, I decided to write a short personal post.
Normally, I prefer to keep it more of a professional blog rather than a personal one, but I came away from this visit to Italy where I was born with a bitter sweet feeling of sadness as well as happiness.
The two alabaster busts in this photo remind me of my sister and I when we were young. I just had to purchase them at a recent auction, and I am happy to say, they went for a song.
We went to Italy together, with our cousin, who is like our sister.
Our little village where we were born off in the distance, as seen through the leaves of the beautiful olive trees which dot the landscape everywhere.
Our family's property in the foreground as it appears today.Meticulous rows of well tended vines, and those gorgeous cypress trees.
My Mom left for Canada with the two of us to meet our father. The voyage took ten days by ship. I was two years old and my sister Micki was only two months old. She left with only a suitcase, filled with our belongings and a few of her mother's cooking utensils, alone with two little ones.
This is our maternal grandmother's house as it appears today, totally abondoned and boarded up.
Look at the beautiful door surround. It must have been lovely in its day.
A fig tree brimming with fruit, has grown haphazardly out of what used to be the stable. The figs were so sweet and delicious and tasted like honey.
The bell tower of our church, Chiesa di San Martino.
The beautiful stone work and reliefs were still in perfect condition after both wars, and several earthquakes.
The old balcony on the house where we were born. I could picture my Mom
standing up there and chatting with her neighbours.
Our street was called Vico Forno Vecchio, because it was the street of the local village bakery, which was run by our maternal grandfather.
A house similar to ours as it would be restored today.
This sweet unknown couple, standing together and looking over the Arno in Florence evoked memories of my own parents as they too might have done. My parents never did revist their homeland together, but this photo opportunity that was presented to me did suffice. I know they would be happy that I had come home to visit.
Bel Paese....beautiful village!