family meals

6 April 1968,

Holy Thursday

Ciao bella,

Today the weather is sunny and truly spring-like with our temperatures reaching 60 degrees.  We could not ask for more, é vero?  It reminds me of the best of Italia at the farm.  Anyway, I am spending my afternoon baking and cooking for Holy Week. These should last through the week and I am planning to share dinners with your family.  Today, it is ravioli di pesce which we will all have tomorrow evening after Stations.  And of course I will try my hand with the fava beans.  Rosa taught me to make this, but it is the first time on my own.  It is delicious.  A purée that is incredibly simple to make, but time consuming to prepare!  Nona can help me shell the beans – which she does not know yet – I will sit her outside in this brilliant sun for this tedious task, with a small espresso, of course.

Both your parents are working this week, and your mother is on the night-shift, so this will help tremendously.  She spends her waking hours in that dank basement, sewing like crazy for your two sisters – beautiful dresses and matching lined, full-length coats. I just wish she would do something for herself!

I know this is a very solemn week for you, and my heart is with you, as always.  We will see you soon, dear one.

Your zia

You can find these delicious recipes mentioned by my zia, in Valentina’s Italian Family Feast.

and then there was Czechoslovakia…

March 10, 1968

Ciao bella,

Mi dispiace!  I have not written to you for so, so long.  There is just too much happening in this country, with work, and with tua Nonna…except for the few postcards from the City, I have been a poor correspondent.

First of all, everyone is fine.  The one I am beginning to have concern about is your little sister…she is not so little –fourteen years old.  She is being influenced by the anti-war movement.  Actually I agree with her politically, but it is the other ways – hair, clothes, and music!  Your mother takes this all in good stride.  She sits with her and listens to the new LPs, and will even sing some of those awful lyrics.  God bless your mother!  I would not have patience.  I am glad you all went to Catholic schools.  It will stand by you in times like this…I hope!

Seeing the images on TV of Vietnam, the protests here, and the bleak outlook for our country makes me wish more than ever, that I was back in my Italia.  If only your Nonna was strong enough to travel, I would snatch her up and put us on a plane tomorrow.  It breaks my heart that she will never see her birthplace again.  Of course, she would never leave your Nonno.  Someone in the family drives her to the cemetery every other day.  She brings a small folding chair…the kind that is a cane, but opens up so one can sit.  She chatters away in Italian to him, and then clutches her rosary and prays the Hail Marys and Our Fathers.  Her small voice fills the air around his grave, and it is almost as if she is praying for all those souls…this solitary, old woman dressed in black, so reverent, so sincere.  Breaks my heart.

So, I sit in the car and wait, and read my books or magazines…and think about my own life.  But enough maudlin writing for one day!  We will see you at Easter to enjoy Mass and then a big Italian dinner. An anticipated joy!

Your zia.

keeping warm

Wednesday, January 10, 1968

Ciao bella,

Settled in for a long, cold night as the temperature is dropping rapidly.  It is predicted that it will be below 5 ͦF with icy snow! Our new gas furnace is wonderful, but this is an old house and we have to keep our tenant in mind as we control the heat.  I may bake biscotti later.  It will heat up the kitchen, and your nonna and I can have an espresso together.  She is doing remarkably well. Of course we argued and argued, as I insisted she put on Nonno’s thermal undershirt.  It is quite big for her, but at least it is warm.  We both laughed until we had tears streaming down our faces!  You should have heard the names she called me…in Italian, naturally.

Seeing you over the Christmas holiday was a blessing for her…and me!  Who knows if and when you will see her again, dear one? She would have loved to go back to her Roma again. I feel badly that I cannot do this for her, but I know that it is too difficult a trip.  At least she feels good that all the family is re-connected again. The packages from Rosa and Giulia meant a lot.   It was so very thoughtful of them to send your gifts directly to the convent.  I hope everyone there enjoyed them…there is nothing like Italian chocolate!  Now, I am hungry too!!

Ciao bella,

Your zia

Advent

This photograph was taken by my sister for whom this journal was written.

Sunday, December 10, 1967

Ciao bella,

Your Nonna and I are back home this morning having been to an early mass.  I have to tell you that I really do not like our parish or the church itself.  It is cold and sterile.  The colors are washed out blue and beige; the chandeliers, brass and simple; the pews without any carvings whatsoever.  How would anyone even think to find God here, I just don’t know.  What a difference from our chiesa in Lunghezza where it was filled with beautifully painted statues and embroidered altar cloths.  And our priests here are so cold, too!  None of the warmth emanates from them, either.  It is so depressing.  I would rather stay home, but your Nonna would be quite upset with me. Oh, how I miss my Roma!

Today I will finally begin to make this house festive.  Your little sister is coming over this afternoon to help.  It is good to have that young energy in the house because it is hard – this first Natale without tuo Nonno, but life must go on.  I am hoping to start baking panetonne, just to get into the mood.  This, along with my White Christmas soundtrack should do it!  I will send you some to share with everyone else.

Your zia

rooftop moment

Monday, 20 November 1967

Ciao bella,

The brisk with the autumn winds blow relentlessly here.  I can see the large dried maple leaves swirling along the street gutters, and the pine tree tops swaying at the end of our neighbor’s yard.  I am sitting outside on our third-story rooftop porch writing these words, bundled up in an old woolen blanket.

It is a relief to be home with your Nonna, and in my little yellow room since my stay in the City with the F_ family turned out to be much longer than I had anticipated.  One child after another came down with some sort of virus, so it was non-stop nursing for almost two weeks…you can imagine with five of them!  Then, it was deciding what was going to be packed for their holiday.  We made endless lists…the wealthy have too much stuff!

More importantly, I did meet T for dinner.  He broke his news to me – in person – that he is engaged to a widow.  I knew this would happen eventually.  He is a dear, dear man.  Had our lives met at some other time and place, I could have been very happy with him.  In the end, one must learn to live with the consequences and vows made.  Youth is no excuse.  We parted friends, which I am sure will fade over time – as it should.

So, for the Thanksgiving holidays I am home with the people I love and who love me – except for you, dear heart!  One is grateful for this often overlooked part of life – those who we live with day in, and day out.   Va bene.

Your zia

spread out

5 November 1967

Ciao bella,

The temperature dropped last night and it is cold, cold, cold – in the 40’s! I miss the wood stove in Lunghezza!  Somehow the radiators are just not the same.  Of course, I do not miss the damp bedroom and bathroom…at least now I have a cozy, yellow room where I can spread out my correspondence, newspapers, magazines all over the bedspread of pristine white chenille, listen to opera on my new stereo, and drink my caffé without worry of frozen fingers. I am listening to Mignon right now, although it is not my favorite. Today is such a day.

Your mother, dad, and little sister walked up to the house and then, the four of us walked to church for Mass.  Nonna had gone to one at 6 AM.  She wakes so early now without your Nonno.  When we got back she had made spaghetti with tuna sauce so we could share our lunch.  I made the mistake of having a glass of wine and fell asleep immediately after everyone went home.

I plan to go to the City next week  to help out with Mrs. F’s’ party and then get them packed and ready before the Thanksgiving holidays.  They will be leaving town for the long holiday weekend for Massachusetts – alot of packing.  I will return here and spend it with la familgia.  I am so sorry that you will not make it.  T and I promised one another that we would have one evening out for a dinner while I am in the City.  We shall see.  I am too old for all this emotional drama.

By the way, the apartment is rented to a nice young couple.  So far, so good.  They are just starting out their lives together.  It is very touching.

Your zia

a pot-pie

2 November 1967

Ciao bella,

This Thursday night I am up late.  Your Nonna is finally asleep.  We had a full day at Mass for All Soul’s Day, then the cemetery, and finally, dinner with your family and Zia Amelia’s.  It is good to keep her busy, and so your mother and I are desperately trying to think of things we need her to do.  Right now she is making a dress for your little sister – who is not so little but a young woman.

While she sleeps I am making us a quick and easy dinner we can just pop into the oven tomorrow to warm up.  I will drive her to the mountains to visit your Zia Adele and family; one of the boys will bring her home again. I know that you own virtually nothing, but it is a stretch for us to make ends meet on our fixed income.  I am putting together a tuna pot-pie with whatever we have in the house since tomorrow is Friday.

I postponed going to the City as Mrs. F came down with a nasty cold and the party is postponed. That family is always sick.  They need to open their windows!  This also gives me time to fret longer about what to say to T. Perhaps I will just call him while I am home alone.  Who knows?  In the meantime, we are putting a notice in the local paper to rent the apartment.  Wish us luck!

Your zia.

Growing up in a Catholic household during the 1950′s and 1960′s when you not only fasted before Communion, but were forbidden to eat meat on Fridays, it was a challenge to come up with meatless dishes. This was long before there were vegetarian cookbooks and the culture that followed with the publication of Laurel’s Kitchen. My mother’s favorite cookbook was not Italian, but a Crisco one.  When I was in my 20′s, she gave me this one as a gift which I still have and use, from time to time. 

Inside are sauteed mushrooms and onions, 1 can of a cream soup, pimentos, milk, flour, tuna and topped with a sharp cheddar cheese & crumbly crust. A typical 1960′s meal.

A homemade pie crust is what makes this a “homey” meal. Here, I added caraway seeds at the cookbook editor’s suggestions. My Nonna always put a little “dough ball” into the oven to appease the spirits. I still do too!

the back porch

27 October 1967

Ciao Bella,

What a difference a week makes!  Your father and Uncle Edilo came over this past week to sand, patch and paint my room downstairs.  This weekend I will move my things back into it and place everything just so…I painted it my favorite color – a deep yellow.  This also matches my favorite lamps that your Aunt Amalia gave me, which are also yellow.  Unfortunately, my double sofa bed takes up most of the room, but I can manage my stereo and tables, so it is just fine.  Your Nonna feels much better with someone on the floor with her, and it is fortunate we get along well.  She is making me talk in Italian all the time, so this is good, too.

She and I have cleaned out Nonno’s closet.  He did not own much, to be honest.  One good suit and work clothes from the mill.  What we cannot bring ourselves to touch is his little napping place on the back porch.  For now, we will let it be.  Nonna has made it into a small shrine with pictures, flowers, and holy cards.  I don’t blame her.  One must cope with one’s own grief in any way possible.  Fifty plus years of marriage is a long time, and a loss I cannot even imagine.

I will be going back to the City fairly soon for a week or so to help Mrs. F___ with a party and the kids.  Your mother and aunts will be in and out here, so I leave with a lighter step.  I did hear from T___ and he insists that I call him when I get into town this time.  Somehow, Nonno’s death has put a lot of my anxiety to rest.  One begins to realize that time is short, at my age.

the subdued week

20 October 1967

Ciao bella,

We are starting to breathe again, your Nonna and I.  The week has been filled with frenetic activities and mingling with relatives who I would rather not mingle with…but now it has subsided down to stillness.  At last.  I am sorry that you could not be spared from your duties to come home, but dear one, I hold no bad feelings, no grudge or resentment.  Life is too short and those we love are too valuable.  Sometimes one cannot change what is written for us.  It is much better to accept.  Your mother told me how upset you were and still are.  Let it go, cara.

All of a sudden I see so much death around me.  A young marine, a Corporal, from our town was killed in South Vietnam today. His obituary reads that he was twenty-one years old and only there two years.  This pains me tremendously, even though I have no children of my own.  It is wrong to kill, and for the young to die so far away, so alone from all who love them despite any justification – patriotic or otherwise – is heartbreaking.  I pray and pray, but for what?  To who?  I don’t know how you keep your faith during these days.  Someday we will sit down – zia to niece – and have a good talk.

Your mother is coming by this evening and we are planning my move back to the first floor from the upstairs apartment.  I know I can look forward to having a few good laughs with her regardless of the gloom embracing me now.  Until next time, feel good about your Nonno and say your prayers for him.

Your zia.

not good

9 October 1967

Ciao bella,

I know that your mother called you last night to give you the news about tuo nonno.  He is not well, and although it is not surprising given how hard his life has been and his age, it is not good.  Your nonna cries when he sleeps.  All she does when he is awake is to cook and bake his favorite foods in the hope that his appetite will return.  But, it will not.  He is a hard man.  Not affectionate.  Not emotional.  But, after we returned from the doctor’s office, as I helped him from the car, he stopped and looked at me straight in the eyes, without emotion or any change in his voice, “My Clara, you have been a good daughter.”  I told your mother that I was so stunned, I could not respond.

In the meantime, we say our novenas every evening, and tua nonna and I eat like there was no tomorrow… if I see another sardine, I will throw up!  Penne and sardines, day and night, as it is one of his favorites. Of course, the sardines are CANNED, not fresh.  Ack! I wish I could send it down to you and all your hungry students – at least the pasta. It is a sin to have so much and not share it.

I made a hair appointment for your nonna just to get her out of the house.  Despite the fact that she will never let go of her long, gray braid, she needs it trimmed.

Call here when you can.  Your nonno would want to talk with you as he loves his grandchildren, especially his three granddaughters!

Zia

going home

5 October 1967

Ciao bella,

Well, I am home again in my city with mia famiglia.  It feels good to be rooted.  While I love the “other” family I have, I miss my own life with my own pace.  They are very sweet though.  Mr. F__ brought me one of his very exclusive handbags as a little “thank you.”  Of course it was not necessary, as they pay me plenty, but I was touched nonetheless.  It is hard to believe that he emigrated here, and he has made his fortune designing these high-end accessories.  I could never afford one myself. That is certain!

This weekend, your mother and I took a day trip to shop at Hess’s in Pennsylvania and we got all dressed up (I used my new purse) with hats, heels, and gloves.  I treated her to lunch at the Patio where we both had the strawberry pie!   It was a lovely day.  The models walk through the restaurant while you eat.  The girls are just beautiful and so are the clothes.  We each bought a winter hat – modestly priced, of course, but very classic.  When we got home, your father had started making his spaghetti sauce and meatballs for Sunday dinner.  I stole a quite few to take home for myself and nonni…he gets so annoyed with me, but he is too sweet to say anything.  I know he makes extra just for me, anyway.

The rest of this week I will be cleaning and taking your nonno for his doctor visit.  He is not feeling so well, and I finally talked him into going.  You know, they do not trust doctors!

Affettuoso abbraicio,

Zia

the record store

30 September 1967

Ciao bella,

This is my last weekend with the F___ family since Mr. F is returning from his business trip. It is fine with me.  I am worried about your nonni.  Your mother called last night and told me that Nonno was not feeling well.  You know how he loves these American sweets!  Nonna tries to hide them, but he just walks down to the corner store and buys more.  It is driving her crazy.  So, it is better I am there to make sure he is eating what he should be eating.  At least I can argue with him, which your Nonna is reluctant to do.

At least the weather has cooled off which lets me take the kids to out.  Today I promised I would take them shopping as the girls have been dying to go to the record store.  Apparently, they love a rock and roll group, The Seeds. I have heard of the Beatles, but not this one.  I just hope I can stand it because they really turn up the volume, and despite how big this apartment is, you can hear almost everything.

I am sorry I did not get to see you while I was here, dear one, but I will make more of an effort with my next trip.  I did not contact T__ either.  It took me a year in Italy to regain my center.  I am afraid to lose it again.

Your zia.

counter space

28 September 1967

Ciao bella,

I arrived here in Philly a few days ago, and I am off and running.  Mrs. F__ has not been feeling well lately, and with the five kids starting school, it is hectic.  It doesn’t help that the weather is up and down here.  One day it is in the 60s and the next the high 70s. Plus it is muggy.  The worst of all weather for city life.  I am sure this is contributing to her migraines.  So, I keep her wing of the apartment dark and quiet – no small feat when the kids come home – and make sure she takes her medicine.  Mr. F__ is always working.  Sometimes being a success is a curse.  I think of my Roma and despite how little la famiglia has in comparison.  I would rather be sitting under a tree with my caffé at the end of the day, than in a first-class kitchen with all the newest appliances.  By the way they just spent a small fortune on a “disappearing toaster” that fits into the wall, so there is more counter space.  It makes me nervous that I will start a fire!

You asked about T__.  Yes, at some point I will visit him and his mother.  How can I not, since I am right here?  Let me tell you, though, I am nervous about seeing him again.  We have only spoken over the phone since my return.  I can handle that.  We will see, dear one.

Your zia.

back home again

24 September 1967

Ciao bella,

It has been a few months here and I am finally getting settled once again.  My apartment is in good shape, thanks to your nonni and la familgia.  The furniture was polished to a shine, the floors and rugs were so clean that I could eat off of them!  There were fresh flowers on my kitchen table, too, in your mother’s favorite vase…no surprise guessing who brought these for me!  It does my heart good to be with my sisters again.

I am sitting here alone, on my small back porch, as the sun sets, with my caffé.  The view from the second floor is soothing…there is something about not being on the ground floor – hovering above the dailiness of my life.  The sparkle of the June bugs and cicada’s song are magical at this time of year. Summer’s evening warmth and gentleness continue even though autumn has arrived on the calendar. I will admit to you that I am miss Italy.  I miss the relatives.  Oh well, soon I will be leaving for Philadelphia and work.  Another change of venue.  Back and forth.  Your mother will drive me to the train station later this week, and I will stay with the _____ family for at least two to three weeks.  Then, who knows?  I go when I am needed.  I will call you when I arrive and perhaps there will be time for a short visit.

Your zia

 

At Dusk

My sisters’ voices carry

from the porch, a sweet

summer cadence.

I pause to honor the June bugs

in the twilight, and breathe

before joining in their songs.

cp ©1993

una bella notte

Thursday June 29, 1967

Good evening cara,

I am back in Lunghezza and outside, sitting on the steps, drinking my evening espresso.  There is still a wind blowing across the fields, but it is cooler.  It has been very hot since my return, but all is calm a casa.  I can feel my body letting go of  the tension that traveling caused. It was a distraction though.  Now, I am again face to face with time.  Today I went to Clelia’s and cleaned five floors for her.  Her husband is very ill and in bed.  All her time and energy is spent caring for him.  It is the least I could do, as they have been so kind to me.

Giulia and I are sharing a room now.  She is a sweet young woman.  Gives and gives.  She is taking driving lessons behind her mother’s back and will surprise her.  Her boss is buying a car that she can use for work to drive back and forth.  This is the least she deserves.

Tonight I saw a rabbit give birth to eight bunnies.  It was an amazing sight.  I came here to find my own way, and I am learning to let it find me. Life can be beautiful, non è vero?

Ciao, ciao