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Today's
Thought for the Day
from DailyOm: |
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Friends of
Extended Circles: |
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An Italian Daughter
by Nereide Padalino Sherwood
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From:
ALBUQUERQUE, NM
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UNITED STATES |
Into:
travel, a good
book, a good show on
tv, time with loved ones |
Know
(I'm pretty good at these!):
people, laughter, neg-and-plate, a
good blue-line,
your basic printing
business! |
I was born on September 25, 1924 in
Torremaggiore, Italy
to Francesco Padalino, my father, an Italian National (also listed in
"Who's Who in Italy for his academic achievements), and my mother Umanita Tamaroglio (who'd been formally trained as
an opera singer and pianist
in Italy). Though she was born in the United States to Italian
immigrants, my mother fled the United States when the marriage went
sour, with my older sister Licia (who was only
a little over a year old), to the security of
life with my paternal grandparents. She was still pregnant with me
at the time. My father apparently followed,
because he was there at my birth to help name me Nereide Francesca Padalino.
Nonetheless, divorce was imminent, though virtually unheard of in those
days, particularly in Italy, where it was still illegal!
When my maternal grandmother learned
of my mother's plans to leave Francesco and return to the United States
to regain her citizenship, she insisted that my mother could not come to
New Jersey (where the rest of her family had emigrated). My
grandmother did not want my mother to arrive back home with two babies to care for. So, even though I was just an infant,
my mother found a family that lived on a farm in Tuscany (in Foyana de
la Chiana) for me to live with. The wife, Julia Farcetti, took her
1 1/2 year old baby off the breast, to breastfeed me! She became
my wet nurse.
My mother took my older sister Licia back to the United States to live
with her family. She found a job working for a doctor and sent
money occasionally to my new Italian family, to assist with my care.
By the time my mother saved enough money to send for me, I was six years
old. I did not understand what was happening to me, except that I
would go to America on a ship. I was to be placed in the charge of
the captain, Mr. Dinegri, whom my mother had apparently fallen in love
with and intended to marry years before!
Her mother had intervened in that
decision as well, and my mother, I am told, was left heartbroken, and
was never the same again.
I remember my Baillia
(Italian for “wet nurse”) sitting across from me on the train that took
us to Naples where the ship docked. I was leaving the only family I had
ever known and was being sent away. Baillia said I would see my real
mamma and that I had a sister, too. She appeared sad. I distinctly
remember the long, lonely, sad train whistle, which for months afterward
always gave rise to tears.
It has been a very long time since those days, and many more adventures
between then and now, including some time at a boarding house / orphanage
in the care of nuns, where my older sister would not accept me as her
sibling - with my broken English and Italian accent. I would try to
sleep at night and hear the trains whistling in the distance, and cry
from loneliness, only to be soothed by the gentle caresses of a young,
lovely nun, who spoke Italian to me.
As I grew, I was determined to make a better life for myself, despite
all the obstacles. I went on to have incredible experiences in the
New York city theatre scene, working under J. J. Schubert, himself!
Those times in the theatre came at what is also known as the golden age
of America - just before and during World War II. It was a very
difficult time, but everyone in the country worked hard and seemed
determined to make it through the war to the promise of a better life.
I met the man (Orville Joe Sherwood) I married and built a life with back then as well, and even our chance meeting had storybook
implications. We were together for over forty years, and had
eleven children together. We opened and operated successful
businesses, and watched as our children grew and had children of their
own. Joe went into retirement just before he died of cancer in
1988.
My elderly years have been filled with travel, family and fun times, and
I realize that the journey is just a very small part of the process.
There are wonderful people, faces and places to know and love, and I
relish every moment.
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Copyright © 2006, Lisa J. Davis and
Extendedcircles.com. All rights reserved.
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