The land of your forefathers

I'm lucky in that I grew up with a strong sense of identity.  My parents told me about my family history, I knew my grandfather well and I spent time at the places that were important in the family history.  I spent time in the wilds of the west of Scotland enjoying the rain and the wildlife.

My partner has some non-Scottish heritage and she had never been able to visit the place in Italy where her family came from.  Sadly, her father never got the chance to take her and her mother had never been.  Last week we were, as a family, on holiday about 60 kilometres from the village and we decided to go there.  I'm really glad we did.  It was amazing.

We decided to club together and get a taxi to take us on the drive to the village and wait for us as we did some sightseeing.  Initially we went to the local tourist office and picked up a bunch of maps and leaflets.  We didn't know much about the area but it turns out that it's an alpine ski resort that is very busy in the winter.  We then managed to find the church where her grandparents were married.  It was a beautiful building in the middle of town and we were able to go in and look around.

We had an address for the building where her nona (gran) had lived as a child.  Thankfully the village was small so we managed to find it.  I also managed to find a bunch of really cool wee lizards which is always enough to keep me happy.  My partners' aunt had managed to give us the phone number for a second cousin, who as luck would have it, had the day off.  After a quick phone call distant cousins were introduced and we had a guide for the next hour or so.

The Italian cousin drove us to another, older church, decorated with a fresco of the danse macabre, that stood within the village graveyard.  It was beautiful, well kempt, with family gravestones adorning the walls of the graveyard.  We found one of the family stones and it had a photograph of nona, beside her siblings.  Sadly, the stone for nono's (grandad's) family had been moved and we couldn't find it.

Outside the graveyard was a war memorial.  On it was the name of my partners great uncle who had died during the first world war.  He was 21.  I was reading a kindle book on world war 2 history which has been driving home the insanity of war and this brought some life to it.  I was also reminded of my dads cousin who died during the second world war in Burma.  In the beautiful alpine surroundings of this village at the foot of the dolomites why would anyone want to leave and die for rich men?

Tourist season had just ended and we sat down to eat a late lunch in a local bar.  I had some cheese and cured beef with bread.  It was a hot day.  Unfortunately we had to get a taxi back to the resort but we were ecstatic with this brief look into family history.  We will go back at some point and stay for a week.

I know how I feel when I stand on a certain beach in Kintyre and watch the seals with the wind blowing so loud I can't hear.  I wish I could stay there, in that old house above the stables, beside the sea, but that is not my house and I cannot have that life.  The choices I have made have given me a different life.  I also know how I feel when I stand at the top of the hill at the croft on the island in argyll and I wish I could be there too but my life is in the city and the populated areas but I know where part of me came from and I know that it was not perfect.  I hope my partner felt that way when we were in the alpine village and we will go back and explore it more.