I am at this very moment in the timeless present, and I am typing the title of the book -- in italiano 🇨🇮 -- on the first page of the manuscript, beneath the words "Finding Filomena." It seems only fitting that I inform you first Antonello, because without you, I’m not sure this book would exist, it most certainly wouldn't exist in its present form! Who would have thought when you and Richard and I met on that very rainy Saturday morning last October in the parking lot of the Sanctuario di San Francesco di Paola, that you would play such a key role in the life of this book!
To think, I found you in such a random off-hand fashion, after the other Italian tourism guide was unable to meet us at the last minute. Ah, but I do believe that the Universe (I refer to "her" as Cara Divina) has our ancestors' best interests in mind; I feel a kind of divine energy at my back, helping to push me along with this book.
My husband and I liked you the moment we met you, Antonello, although it was a bit difficult to talk as we were all three of us under ombrelli!Oh but we were so happy to learn that even though you look to be about the age of our son Noah, who is 35 years old,
Seriously, though, Antonello, what is/was most amazing about you is what you told us over lunch in that gorgeous little town of San Lucido where my great grandparents got married in January 1898. We were dining on ensalada parmesana e capuccino) and you casually mentioned that one of your favorite pastimes is assisting people with family genealogy! I opened my mouth to speak -- Dio Mio, and Madonna Mia, -- but nothing came out except, "wow, that's great!" Inside though I was speaking to my cousin Donna Ricci back in the states: "Cousin, we have hit the jackpot for sure!"
And yet, even though you seemed perfect for the job of tracking down Filomena, I still wasn’t altogether convinced you would be able to do it. I mean, how would you possibly track down our elusive Bis Bis Nonna when all you had to go on was a shred of information -- three or four handwritten lines on the back of the ONLY photo we have of Filomena, supplied of course by cousin Donna. No, it wasn't much of a clue at all: these words you can barely see here basically translate as: "To my dear son, Pasquale, Filomena Scrivano (Pera), 23 October, 1919."
That's all you had to go on! Miraculously, though, after only three months of intensive searching (for which you refused to take even un centisimo!) you found her, Antonello! OMG I remember that Thursday morning! It was January 25th, exactly seven months ago today. I was sashaying down Sixth Avenue in Denver, Colorado, killing time while my dog Poco was being groomed. It was a bluebird day -- that's shorthand in Colorado for pure blue skies, no clouds allowed -- and I was headed for Cheseman Park, figuring I'd hang out there, when I happened to casually glance at my Inbox. HOLY MADONNA, there it was -- your email!
"Hello Claudia 🙂🖐🏾 and Donna
it is me, Antonello Zaccaria from Calabria
I want to share my happiness this afternoon...
I'm in the center of Paola
I think I've found death certificate of Filomena Pera ...... OUR Filomena😍🥰
She married Leonardo Scrivano.
She died in 1927 in the seaside area of Paola. I Read the document today.
I'll send u more mail to explain all I understood...
And I'm gonna send a picture 📸 of what I have seen."
Because of you, Antonello, WE NOW HAVE CONCRETE EVIDENCE THAT OUR BIS BIS NONNA FILOMENA SCRIVANO actually lived -- and died!
Even though the women clearly were in possession of the birth certificate, because Donna could see it on the desk, they simply refused to give it to her. And then they had the audacity to point at our great grandfather's last name, Orzo, and LAUGH at it! Oh dear God I wish those women heartburn of the very worst sort -- bruciore di stomaco della peggior specie! These pathetic women were certainly as evil-minded as the original beasts who in the very same municipal office way back in 1870 annointed our ancestor with the demeaning name ORZO, the very least important sort of pasta there is!
Enough ranting and raving, scatenarsi e delirare! I want to say that the last year and a half writing this book has been nothing short of un miraculo for me personally. I fully expected to write a story about my great great grandmother that would provide some much-desired “answers” to questions that have been flying around in our family for decades. I really wasn't too worried about writing it. Having published four novels, I was pretty confident that I could come up with some kind of love story about Filomena that family members might enjoy, a story that would also, importantly, give my great great grandmother back her stature. More than anything, I wanted to restore my ancestors' dignity. Because as you well know, Antonello, Filomena had her baby way back in 1870 in SOUTHERN Italy, for heaven's sake. That's 154 years ago, and yes, Pasquale was born outside of marriage -- the term is out of wedlock or — fuori dal matrimonio. Dear GOD and Mary how I loathe those deadly words! The shame that was historically associated with this sin is unfathomable to us moderns. I wonder, Antonello, is that true of young people in Italy too today? Do they readily accept the idea that a woman may decide to have a baby without being married?
Whatever is true today, illegitimacy was undeniably the source of almost intolerable shame back then, and not only shame. For centuries, under the ironclad rule of the Catholic Church in Italy (as well as in Spain, France, Portugal and Belgium), women who delivered babies outside of marriage were forced to GIVE UP their babies to church officials who then placed these precious infants in decrepit “ozpizias” literally hospices where they were fed by wet nurses who passed diseases from one baby to another.
I am going to pause here Antonello, because I need some air. Honestly, I cannot go forward at this moment thinking about what happened to all of those hundreds of thousands of infants. It makes me physically ill and I feel like I can't breathe properly.
I've told you what happened to these hundreds of thousands of tiny souls, all of them up in heaven as angels for sure. I will resume my letter after I've had un caffe or perhaps a stroll through Mother Nature, una passeggiata nella
It is this feminine (some would say feminist) energy in the Universe that has been missing for most of history. It is this feminine energy, embodied in women, and also in the Virgin Mary, that is so popular with millions and millions of indigenous peoples around the world. It was the MADONNA figure that the Roman Catholic patriarchy, all of them men, tried to wipe out UNSUCCESSFULLY around the world. Indigenous cultures have clung to their madonnas. Which from my point of view, is a good, no, a great thing. It is this very energy that is coming into its own right NOW, right here, in the U.S.of A. In our (knock 'em dead KAMALA HARRIS!) election coming this November. Yes, we are praying around the clock that the opposition candidate, a Republican who will remain nameless, will disappear after he is handily defeated once and for all.
OKAY, time I am got off my soapbox. Time to take un passeggiata in Mother Nature, my dear friend, mio caro amico, Antonello!
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