Today, my husband and I got the news that his Uncle Tony had passed away. He was the last of his generation on both sides of my husband’s family. Nick’s dad and uncles were all farmers in Capizzi high up in the Nebrodi Mountain Range in Sicily before they emigrated to Ottawa.
My family, with our Scottish, English, Irish, and Welsh heritage, were reserved in a way that I didn’t understand until I met Nick’s family. They are close and in each other’s lives in a way that is wonderful and sometimes baffling for me. When I met Zio Tony and Zia Pippa, I was immediately part of the family. For Nick this was normale but for me, it was a new experience. What I remember most about Zio Tony was his warmth and humour. Even back in 2018 when we met for the first time his health was poor, but he set all that aside and did nothing but smile and laugh and joke. I truly felt embraced by all of them. This is one of the wonderful things about marrying into a Sicilian family.
Capizzi is a mountain-top village, surrounded by fields of rich volcanic soil, excellent for farming. Nick’s dad’s family owned and worked the fields that had been in their family for generations. When Nick’s nonno (grandfather) passed, the land had to be divided up so that each of the eight siblings would get their share. This left each of them with not enough land to support themselves so they took the courageous step to sell their land and move to a country that was entirely different from anything they had ever known. They knew that this would mean a real break from the many generations of the Cacciato family that had lived in Capizzi. They travelled by sea, landing at Pier 21 in Halifax. There was, of course, no email, no cell phones, no texting. Photos had to be taken to the drugstore to be developed and printed. International long-distance calls were outrageously expensive. The only way they had of communicating was by letter. When I think about our lives here in Sicily, we can have contact with our daughter and son-in-law, or with Nick’s sister and brother-in-law with the click of the send button. How difficult it must have been for them.
This also has me thinking about how we are now the oldest generation. This has crept up on us. We are both in our 60s, but this is no longer old in the way it was in our parents’ generation. Although we both come from long-lived families–my father was 92 and my mother was 96 when they passed, and Nick’s father was 86–to be in one’s 60s was definitely the beginning of one’s twilight years. Today, it is different. We know so many folks here in Sicily who have started a new chapter in their lives once they reached or approached retirement. That is certainly true of us. This week, we will be starting an entirely new chapter. This week, we will be signing the atto on 4 hectares of land with 200 olive trees, 20 fruit trees, and a farmhouse. Nick is going to become an olive farmer and I’m going to become a farmer’s wife. Not anything I ever thought I would be, and I don’t believe Nick ever thought he would be a farmer, but here we are, about to start our own next great adventure. When we sign that atto, we will both be thinking of the past generations of Nick’s family. This is, in a way, an homage or omaggio to his family.
I will be posting more as our great farming adventure progresses.
You can find my book about buying our first house in Sicily here:
My Sicilian Home 