Childhood Memories

Wow, how the time flies! I find myself tracing back the steps to where it all began. It is quite interesting how the memory works, it isn't a total account from start to finish but a collection of events deemed important enough to carry around for the rest of one's life. I sit here this morning at the computer with my cup of coffee determined to write a short blog to accompany some old photos of my past. We are currently having some challenging times dealing with this COVID-19 PANDEMIC! For me, it's all about choices and today l've decided to add another piece to my online story.

My early years consisted of a fair amount of traveling back and forth from the United States to Italy and spending time with great grandparents. I never met my grandparents but was told that they had separated, sometime during my mom's youth. My grandmother had died from an aneurysm before I was born but I do recall the original old house and landscape before all the development happened in the area. The building was three stories high and had a dumbwaiter basket that carried groceries to the upstairs kitchen window. There was an elaborate staircase circling up to the third floor where my aunt, uncle and two cousins lived. The secand floor consisted of bedrooms, bathrooms, dining . area and kitchen. I remember paying early morning visits to my great grandfather while he was still in bed reading the newspaper and smoking a cigar. The downstairs had my uncle's old office that wasn't being used anymore and made for a great playing space where my cousins, sister and I would play for hours. The entrance had two huge wooden doors with a short flight of concrete steps leading up to the entry. One day, while riding on my cousin's shoulders, we made our way through those wooden doors. As the heavy door closed, my finger jammed in between, nearly taking the tip of my middle finger completely off requiring several stitches! I am reminded when I look at the remaining evidence clearly marked as a permanent crease in my healed finger today. These memories of the old house and my great grandfather were short and sweet. On my next visit to Italy, the old house was gone and Great Grandfather was in bed nearing his death in the new building. So much had changed in the area. Several tall condos were built on what was great grandparents's property. In my remaining years visiting, many friendships were formed with neighboring kids. Games of soccer were a favorite. We would play into the evening before dinner. My mom would yell from the second story balcony that dinner was ready and to come home. Great grandmother lived on for a few more years in the new building. I can remember getting the letter with news of her death while back at home in the States. It was devastating news and would be the final blow to my mom and her depression! In later years after many suicide attemps, mom died of an overdoes when I was eleven.