8/30/11 The Pain of a Final Departure

Last night’s sleep wasn’t very restful; it was choppy due to a number of dreams only the last of which I can remember.  In it, a neighbour of mine had asked me to go around the neighbourhood handing out lengths of copper wire so that residents could ensure that their houses were properly grounded.  Naturally, I refused to participate in such a worthless and unscientific exercise.  But the neighbour was very convincing and eventually I agreed to help.  As I made my rounds handing out the wire and an information sheet on its proper installation I realized that most of the houses were occupied by guys I went to high school with.  What does this have to do with my trip to Italy?  I have no idea, but I always like to write down strange dreams if only for evidence that the mind is a crazy beast.

Back to the more serious topic…departures.  Not leaving your house for a few weeks or even a year…how about leaving for the last time.  That’s what my zia Catina is facing, and clearly it’s the type of situation that can weigh heavily on someone.

Through a series of unfortunate events that are none of my business and which I may not even understand, the end of the line has been reached for my zia in her hometown.  There is a family home passed down through the generations full of memories and mementos of those that have died.  An entire house filled with the collective recent history of a family.  The problem is that there’s nobody left to carry the torch.  When looking around the house the inevitable question keeps coming up, a question for which there is no answer.  Where will everything go?  Who will take an interest?  Understandably, her grandchildren who have lives based entirely in Canada and no houses of their own have neither the interest nor the means to take the reins.

It’s a sad story, but one that I know is not unique; it plays out all around us.  My zia has come to face the hard truth, as she approaches her 80s her next departure from Paino D’Arta may be her last.  I offered what little consolation I could, something I truly believe: what’s important when it comes to family is not the “things” but the thoughts and memories.  No matter where you go, they’ll always be with you.

That sentiment signalled our departure. I thanked my zia for sharing her hometown with me and wished her a speedy and safe return to Canada.  Next stop: Iutizzo.  Down the mountain along the never ending cornfields that flank the river Tagliamento to my zia Maria’s house.