The church of Gorizzo and its adjoining cemetery were our next stop. The church is absolutely tiny and the cemetery counts my grandfather and great-grandmother among its residents. Having reached capacity years ago, my grandmother rests elsewhere in the town of Trechesimo where she spent the last few years of her life.
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My grandfather's tomb...the photos don't fade.
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The tiniest of churches
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| My great grandmother's tomb. |
The town of Gorizzo was essentially owned by a wealthy family headed by “The Count” (Ah! Ah! Ah! I love to count!...sorry, I couldn’t resist) who’s family went by the name of Mainardi. Owing to their stature, the Mainardi family has its own private mausoleum in the church’s tiny cemetery. My mother took offence to this indulgence which reminded her of a Napolitano poem entitled “A Livella”. The poem recounts the story of a commoner and a member of the aristocracy who met in the afterlife.
“How is it possible that you are here with me?” asked the aristocrat.
To which the commoner replied “Death is a level, it makes all equal”.
And so this came to pass in Gorizzo as well. What remains of the Mainardi family? According to my father, not much. The riches disappeared; the family estate fell into ruins and has been largely taken over by the state, the majority of its occupants now pigeons and rats. Sadly, many in the Mainardi family fell victim to mental illness.
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| The remains of the House of Mainardi |
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