GL 350 Blog Week 5

In 1994 my grandma revisited her sisters in Italy after not seeing them for over 20 years. When she went in 1994, me, my mom, and my aunt went as well.  Ever since that trip ended, all she talked about was taking me back there after I graduated high school. I remember her always talking about it when I was growing up and I always told her I would take her back. When I graduated high school, she was ready to go and I couldn't because I had a scholarship for golf in college and a good job. I felt like I broke her heart, but I had no other choice. In the first few months of my college career my best friend, Danny Krier, had applied for a study abroad program in Rome for the following year. I thought that would be perfect to go and take my grandma and she can stay with her family while I stay on campus in Rome; however, there was one problem: I would sacrifice my golf season.  Something else I was not willing to do. A few weeks after Danny told me about his program, a stranger to me at the time introduced me to another program that allowed me to study abroad in Rome, and not miss golf season. By the way, the person that told me this is now my girlfriend. As soon as she told me about it, I made up my mind and applied, and the rest is history. Now, I am typing this blog on my last day in Pescolanciano, which is my grandmothers hometown. 

I was nervous and excited about coming to meet my grandmas family. She always talked about these people and showed me pictures, and to think I was going to meet them was unbelievable. The day was planned that on Thanksgiving day, her and a few family members would come pick me up from the Walsh campus.  When I saw my grandma in the building standing next to her sister I sensed pure joy in her smile. Her sister, my aunt, hugged me with such a tight grip I could not breathe. Both my grandma and my aunt had tears in their eyes of pure joy. I saw my grandma cry with her sister at that moment, and then I saw her laugh with her. I have seen siblings laugh and cry with each other, but it was nothing like this. My grandma being reunited with her sister was the happiest thing I have ever observed, and it was only the beginning. 

After a wonderful Thanksgiving dinner with my classmates and faculty members, we were on our way to  Pescolanciano. Before I left, Danilo, the Walsh University Site Director, told me that I was going to see the real Italy. That what I would see in Pescolanciano would be nothing like what we have gone to in Rome. Danilo was spot on with that comment. Everyone was so excited to see me. The last time anybody saw me, I was just a baby. My cousin, Anthony, called my grandma five times on our way home to see when we would be home. When we arrived at my other aunts house, all my grandmas family was waiting. Her other sister, her brother, and all her nieces and nephews were all crying and hugged me. It was such a happy house because I was there. I was like a king at that moment, and not to mention pretty much the whole weekend. 

My grandpa passed away about nine years ago, but he has one brother that still resides in Pescolanciano and my grandma took me to visit him on Friday. Once again there was about 15 of my grandpas closest family members, his brother and his nieces and nephews, and they all hugged me with tears in their eyes and then we gorged ourselves with a lovely three course Italian meal. All these people feed me until I feel like I am going to burst. When I left the house, they gave me so much money for a gift to buy whatever I want. Everyone, all my family members, gave me so much I can't even explain it.  The love I felt this weekend was something I never felt before. 

In his book "The Italians," Luigi Barzini claims that Italians never want to leave their country. As soon as they leave the country, they go through withdrawal, and they want to return. My grandma would completely agree with this statement. When she was twenty years old, she was married and had one daughter, my mom. My grandpa decided he wanted to go to America to start a new life, and my grandma had no other choice but to go with him. She said she was sad and depressed for years. She always misses Italy, even though she has been back to visit, it is still not the same. Barzini is correct. A true Italian, never wants to leave Italy.

This last weekend may not have been the most "fun" for me, but it was one of the most memorable experiences of my life. I saw the cemetery where my grandmas parents and two brothers are buried. I saw the bed where my mom was born. I saw where my grandma grew up. I saw my grandma reunited with her family. To think without me she never would have seen her sisters again makes me feel pure joy. Everyone in this trip has their favorite sight, such as the colosseum or a specific church, but mine is the sight of my grandma crying, laughing, and smiling with her family. There is no word in the dictionary that can describe the pure joy and happiness in Pescolanciano this past weekend.