The Making of a Pilgrimage
I’ve just returned from the trip of a lifetime, one that was decades in the making. I had the chance to travel to the homelands of my Italian ancestors, the parents of my paternal grandparents. It’s a trip I have wanted to do for over a decade, delayed by the pandemic, and then with recent chronic illness flare-ups possibly getting worse, I felt the need to attempt it while I thought I could.
My Family
Cannata Family Sunday Dinner
I’ve always identified closely with the Italian side of my family. I think partially because I was always asked “what I was” in every new room I entered growing up, with every suggestion under the sun being offered. I got used to quickly offering up that I was Italian to avoid the guessing. The other reason is because the traditions on my father’s side are so close. My mother used to describe her ancestry as Heinz 57, (indicating an unknown mixture of white European). While we certainly had family traditions and recipes that I loved and still celebrate, they didn’t have the same thread going through them, and the direct connection to the land and culture that my Italian family brought.
My Italian side was (and is) a very large and close-knit group of aunts, and uncles and cousins, so many I never learned all their names when we would have reunions, especially when the two Italian sides would come together. I have lived with both my nonna and my great-grandmother at points in my life. I’m told I slept in an empty drawer in the little attic apartment above her home. Even when we lived far away, it was so fun to return for the Feast of Seven Fishes, the Chadone and Egg Baskets at Easter, the stories, traditions, and music that my grandparents love to share.
Celebrating my 1st birthday while living at grandma, Jennie Santarelli’s home
I am incredibly lucky that both my paternal grandparents are still alive. So much of the reason I wanted to do this trip now was to be able to show them the places they haven’t seen. (They were able to travel to both their father’s cities in the past but hadn’t seen where their mothers were from). I also felt so honored to have known both of my great-grandmothers until my teens and twenties, to have lived and learned from all these living ancestors is such a gift. I’ve heard their love of tradition and food, their pride in their new country and the success they worked so hard for. I’ve also heard the pain in their voice when they recall what they gave up in order to fit in to a new place. It’s these stories and connections that have driven me to want to know more over the years.
Lou and Nancy, on a Mediterranian Cruise
My spouse (Russell) and I have loved diving into genealogical research for a long time. We’ve loved the digging, researching, and finding cool facts or documents. It has always been fascinating because the more you look at your own family, the more you’re faced with the context they lived in. Each thread that’s pulled somehow leads to a larger picture. There are points where seeing a father’s occupation listed on a birth certificate led to research that shed light on the political, cultural, and spiritual history they were living within. I feel like this research and knowledge has always grounded me and helped me understand my place in the world. It was nothing short of magical to feel present with the history and people whose struggle led to the eventual collection of atoms that is me.
The Trip
Route - Rome to Catania
The Plan: to visit the homes of my four paternal great-grandparents:
Fly into Rome and drive east up into the Apennine mountains in (L’Aquila, Abruzzo) to Santo Stefano di Sessanio, home of my nonna’s mom, Jennie Santarelli.
From there we planned to drive south through the mountains to Rionero Sannitico, (Molise, Isernia) home of my papa’s mom, Antonita Capretta.
We would continue south-west into Caserta, Campania until we were about an hour outside of Naples in Bellona to visit the home of papa’s dad, Luigi Glorioso.
Finally, after spending time in Naples we planned to take a train down to the Messina region of Sicily to visit Savoca/Santa Teresa di Riva the home of nonna’s dad, Santo Cannata.
Through much planning, organization, saving, exercising, pure will, and the tremendous help of my spouse, sister, and children - we made it to all four of the stops and even had a few other adventures along the way. I’m hoping to use this space to make a record of my trip, my family’s story, and also to start sharing a little more about myself, my life, and about living and traveling with disabilities.
