this is the only grandparent i knew.
he lived with us and died when i was ten.
i've kept this one photo and the note that he
wrote with me forever, in my many moves.
i hadn't really realized how beautiful he was
until i scanned this small 2" sq photo,
and made it my wallpaper on the computer.
now, i look into that sculpted face,
those deep eyes everyday.
he was quiet, a writer, a poet.
he spoke little english.
he took care of me when everyone
was off on the farm.
he had creamy coffee and bread for breakfast.
he tied my shoes. combed my hair.
this note in italian and his gorgeous handwriting, which i must have translated,
was written on my first birthday, december 11, 1946.
there's my name, nunzia neva.
there's AMORE
from Nonno Rosario.
he was born in 1883 in catania, italy (sicily), came to the US in 1905.
(i've been feeling maybe reflective, certainly VERY quiet these days,
very quiet. no posting lately, but well and happy. thought i'd check in with a hello.)
