The legacy of a doorstep baby...

(had to add an important detail i forgot...this is a repost)

I called my aunt the day after I arrived in Cefalu. Sitting on the beach talking to her I wanted to know more about my grandfather. I did not feel a connection to him in Catania and this was dissappointing to me. I figured that my expectations might have been unrealistic, this desire to feel something different. What I discovered was that I had somehow made a mistake...that my grandfather was not from Catania, but was from a town called Sant Angelo di Brolo. Here I had spent all this time creating a way to be in the location my grandfather was from and I had gone somewhere else! I thought, I wonder where the hell this place is? I am supposed to leave for Calabria in a few days...how am I ever going to get there?

So I went on the net...and I discovered that the town was just over an hour from where I am staying. It is a province of Messina. After spending two hours trying to figure out how to get there by train and bus, as well as trying to figure out my transportation to Calabria I was in a bit of a tizzy. Yesterday I had a bit of a travelers meltdown, lol...it is difficult to navigate in a country where you have a hard time communicating. Thanks must be given to Jewel first for calling me and making me laugh and Jo for rescuing me in indecision once again, lol.

So after a bit of debate, I decided to rent a car and make my way to Sant Angelo Di Brolo. It is a small town on the mountainside overlooking the valley just a few kilometers from the ocean. I went to the cemetary and as I walked I kept asking for guidance. Before I even left I felt this strong presence of my grandfather and my father...who I miss desperately today. The next thing I know there it is...a stone with the Spurio surname. So I call my aunt again and ask her about it, and we began to talk about the family name. My great grandfather (we think, might have been great great) was a doorstep baby. He was taken in by a family with the last name Bonfiglio. We never understoon why he was not given their surname. My grandfathers full name was Carmelo Bonfiglio Spurio. What I found out in Calabria, sitting in the home of a Romainian family with my host, that Spurio literally means baby left on the doorstep. I began to cry right there...thinking of how we had always wondered about this, and realizing in that moment that my name carries the tale of my ancestors. Oh, and about two minutes after we got off the phone, I found a stone with Bonfiglio :) Then as I was about to leave the cemetary I look over at the landscape and my eyes naturally fall upon a stone that says, Carmelo Spurio. It was really something...spirit could not have been more generous with visual signposts.

I spent a bit more time exploring the town...I sat in the church and wondered if maybe he had sat in the same pew. I wanted to get back to Cefalu before dark so I began to drive back. I realized how close to the ocean I was, so I drove down to the beach. It was here where I felt the energetic shift. Suddenly I felt as though I could access my grandfathers life...even, his thoughts. I felt him within me in a way I never have before. And it was at this moment I decided to spread some of my fathers ashes...into the Mediterranean...with a view of the Aeolian Islands in front of me and the roar of the waves hitting the rocks beside me. I had planned to do this in Catania, but it never felt right. I am so glad that I listened...

Tomorrow I leave for the town my grandmother was from. Some day I will bring my family back here. It is a day I already anticipate with excitement and joy. Because we are three generations...living...because of a womans hope that her child might have a better life.

Love, Peace, and Blessings