My uncle Joe just sent me this picture of my Grandpa Antonio on his way to America. The odd thing is the that ship sank off the shores of Long Island a year after he arrived. The picture was taken by my uncle Joe in Naples, Italy.
Living here in Minnesota it's easy to forget who I am and where my family came from. Ever since I was a kid I remember feeling just half a step out of the loop. My name was odd- teachers could never pronounce it, when we had roll call with a substitute teacher I began to just reply with a "Here." when the new teacher took a long pause when she got to the S's. I remember going out to New York when I was a teen and having this strange feeling like I had finally come "home". No one stumbled over my name (first or last for that matter) and we all pretty much looked alike (I'm a pretty light Italian but I was dark for a northern Minnesotan.) There was a connection between all of us that was almost tangible. We were family.
This picture brings a feeling to me that is hard to put into words. This picture makes me feel proud. I can't imagine what is going through my Grandfathers mind as he prepares to leave everything he knows. I am struck by his strength to be willing to leave his family and do what is best and the most difficult. I have seen the same character in my father. His decisions are never based on difficulty, they are based on best, he always chooses best. Thank you Grandpa for making a better life for your wife, sons, and me.
2 comments:
Oh what a cool picture! I can see the resemblence between your grandfather and your father. What courage he had.
It must be great fun for your family watching the Olympics!
I'l never forget the day my father left. I was sad confused and scared.My Mother kept telling me not to be sad because every thing was going to be fine.We would see him soon.I did miss my dad.I remember walking home from school and looking back to see if he was following me.Finely Four years later we came to America.
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