MY SENTIMENTAL RETURN TO SOUTHERN ITALY
I barely remember the town in which I was born. It is a little village by the name of Adami, found in the province of Catanzaro, Calabria, Italy. At the early age of three my family and I left Italy on a journey to America, hoping for a better way of living. It was May of 1967. Twelve long years passed by before we could scrape enough money to return to our native region. Until I saw Calabria, I was not sure of what to expect, my childhood memories being so vague. My mother told me how beautiful it was. I imagined her words and how it would be, for twenty-three hours of tedious and uncomfortable travel…. ten by plane, ten by train (cramped between suitcases) and the last hour by cab from Catanzaro’s train station. Tired and dreamlike, but still anxious to look around. I can recall arriving late at night to my grandmother’s house. She was so happy to see us. My mother was exultant with joy at seeing her mother after twelve years. Tears of the most joyous moments flowed down their f...