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My Father
My father loved his grandchildren very much, and they
loved him. My sister Cora, her husband and baby lived with him. She lived on
the second floor. She lived there until my brother Tony got married. Tony and
his bride Minnie then lived on the second floor. After a few years Tony's wife
got sick, so they moved out. My brother Nick was married to Molly by now, so
they moved in. Molly was very good to my father. She cleaned his apartment,
cooked for him and washed his clothes. My brother Nick would shave him and cut
his hair.
I would take my father to stay with me one week at a
time so they could paint his apartment or if he wasn't too well. When we moved
to Closter we had my father for a week. I put a single bed in a small room near
the kitchen. He loved to sit near the kitchen window and look out at the
beautiful lawn and tennis court. My father would say to me that it was nice
that my husband's boss allowed him to stay here. Poor Pop, we couldn't make him
understand that we owned the place. I guess he just couldn't believe that we
saved enough money to buy this big place. My father lived until he was 89 years
old. He was a widower for almost 30 years.
Copyright 2000 Richard A. DeVenezia. All Rights Reserved.
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Readers Comments: |
| Ann DeVenezia |
Wednesday, March 14 2001, 06:48 pm |
Grandpa Zaccagnio
Limping along the peeling porch rail
his left leg dragging
from cutting off his cast with an axe
Grandpa Zaccagnio chanted
Life was, life is,life will be
At sixteen he had left Abruzzi
To make a better life
A bachelor when my widowed grandmother
walked past him on the street
he fell in love and wanted children of his own
daughters or sons
Just let the baby be healthy
Married at forty-two he sired
my mother and her two brothers
At Sunday Mass he crossed himself slowly
prayed the rosary daily
joined the Sons of Italy
Forum Club and Knights of Columbus
wept when his twenty-year wife died
On hot days he wore a white handkerchief
knots in each corner, an amazing hat
We liked to play cards with him
to hear the wall clock ticking
to watch him mend slacks and socks
in his solitary home
where the children brought him meals
and his son shaved his beard
When my sister tap danced to "Alexander's Ragtime Band"
chewing up linoleum in the dining room
near the wind up Victrola
he would hide the handle
Then my mother would plead
C'mon Pop give them a nickel
to buy an ice cream cone
and he dug in his pocket for coins
sending us off to Sandello's with warnings
Come right back home
- Ann DeVenezia
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