Thinking about my mom and dad today. April 25th was the date of their wedding anniversary. They always celebrated their anniversary. They bought gifts for each other and often went out for dinner while my sisters babysat me. Being the youngest in the family, the caboose, I always felt that my parents had already had a lifetime of marriage and had experienced many complicated and complex life experiences together well before I was ever born. I was born hearing their stories of growing up in their Sicilian village, of the early days of their marriage in Grotte, of the later years in Liege, Belgium where, for thirteen years, my dad worked as a coal miner, of their time in Boston, and of their settling in Gary, Indiana, where finally I was born.
They passed away within 12 months of each other. I know it sounds strange, but though I know they are deceased, I like to imagine they are on vacation, far off, in some exotic land, having such a grand time that they have definitively put off coming home! I wrote the following blog post a while back and am re-posting the following in their honor:
There is a close up photograph my nephew John took of my parents’ hands. It is so unbelievably beautiful and, unfortunately, John cannot find it among his tens of thousands of negatives. I would have loved to use that photo in this blog, but I have these other photos of my parents’ hands.
My parents got married in their hometown Grotte in Sicily on April 25, 1948! Today, on my parents’ wedding anniversary, I think of them, of their undying love and respect for one another, and of their loving amazing hands.
Below (the early days in Grotte, Sicily):
The most beautiful hands in the world are not manicured, soft, and bejeweled.
They are lined,
calloused from coal mining,
encrusted with farmed earth.
They smell of onions and garlic.
They are stained with tomato sauce from canning,
dotted with wet bread dough,
snagged from knitting and crocheting socks, scarves, hats, baby blankets and sweaters.
They are sticky from picking apples, figs,
pears, peaches, plums, almonds, walnuts, and berries.
Their fingers are pierced from embroidery and sewing.
Sometimes they are covered with meat and fennel from sausage making
or sprinkled with wine from the press.
They have made countless meals.
These hands are strong, full of expression,
fearless, protective, hardworking, providing,
worn to the bone.
They are firm and gentle
and have held, caressed, fed, and cleaned many babies and children.
Yes, they are kind beautiful hands. They speak. They tell a story.
Written on mom and dad’s wedding anniversary: April 25, 1948 — to eternity
I loved your parents. No better neighbors did we have. I remember their hands. Looking out of my kitchen window, I would eye Charlie out back tending to his garden and knew what would follow. Charlie would come over carrying in those beaten up, beautiful hands an abundance of tomatoes, zucchini, or lettuce. Sometimes he would surprise me with fruit from his peach and fig trees. Yes, we had plenty of salads every summer along with peach pie.
Your mom would be outside watering her roses. She had the best flowers in the neighborhood and always had a word of advice on how to take care of them. When I had knee surgery, she spent two weeks bringing a warm lunch over for me. She told me Charlie made her, but I think she enjoyed talking to me about her family and the places she lived. Boy, did I get an ear full! After an hour of talking, she would get up, wash the dishes and go home. I loved her visits.
Doug and I miss them and know it’s not every day you are lucky to have such loving neighbors. We thought of them as family.
Thank you, Peggy! Your words bring tears to my eyes. How could it be that they are not still there, tending to their garden, cooking up a storm, my mom talking your ear off, my mother on the phone asking me how my husband is doing but never thinking to ask how I am doing (!!)…just the way she was. And I miss them terribly, too. So glad you got them as neighbors. They both thought the world of you and Doug and your daughters!
Love the poem so much ❤️ This is such a beautiful tribute to mom and dad ❤️ Thankyou xoxo
Oh WOW Fran. This blog is so touching. So sweet and true to your heart.
Thank you!
I miss you!
Jeanne
Beautiful post Fran. Funny, my grandparents passed away within a year of each other as well. They were very much like your parents. I bet they are all just partying up together right now.
Beautiful. I can see you in both of them.
Thank you!!
What a beautiful tribute to your parents! The Poem is amazing!
I really felt compelled to repost this. I also love this blog post.