findingphilblog

One of my favorite books is Charlotte Bronte’s “Jane Eyre.” When her friend Helen dies, she’s buried at Lowood School under a stone that says “Resurgam.” Latin for “I will rise again.”

That word kept running through my head as Jason and I made our way to Mount Carmel Cemetery.

Because, after 90 years, Francesco and Saverina’s memories were rising again. We had to stop at the cemetery office to get directions to the site, which was fairly easy to find. It’s a nice spot, as these kinds of things go. Just below a dip in a hill, near the cemetery’s baby section. I try not to think of all those tiny tombstones with little lambs on them as I walk up to my great-grandparents’ grave.

 There they are. I’m shocked to see that there’s only one stone. My feeling for my great-grandmother again fluctuates. Why did her new husband not see fit to buy her a stone. It makes me sad. Because I see that despite the missing picture (it would fit on that little notch), Francesco’s name, date of birth and date of death have withstood the test of time. The grass is neatly tended around the monument to his existence. Were it not for the little record card in the cemetery office, I might never know Saverina was right there next to him.

I sit down on the grass and try to feel whatever connection might still exist between myself and the bodies below. The weight of history somehow feels incredibly present. I think of my Grandpa. Did he ever come out here? If he kept his concertina-playing skills a secret, maybe he had a few clandestine visits to his parents. Or, maybe like a lot of men in his day, he just didn’t look back.

 It’s a sunny day, and not too far removed, I realize, from the 91st anniversary of his death. I think about how there was no way Francesco could have imagined his little boy would have a little boy of his own, and a daughter as well. That they would go on to each have a boy and girl of their own. Two writers, a banker and a pharmacist, all living in Pittsburgh together.

Whatever Francesco and Saverina’s American dream had become, my dad and aunt, me, my brother Philip and my cousins Kristin and Bryce were proof that at least some of it had come true.

Photo credit for these awesome pictures to my fabulous boyfriend, Jason Malmont.