I see my mother in myself at this time of life, when she came to America during the time I was pregnant with Brian. She even looked as I do. She was as burdened with ailments as I am. Yet, the joy, the joy of a new life was the same.
Not once did I hear her complain about the baby's crying bouts, the many chores that needed done with a newborn and two other children. She jumped right in, and was most helpful, especially at a time when people did not get the benefit of paternity leave.
I'm enjoying every minute holding my new grand-baby Nico. (He is named after his two maternal grandfathers, Joseph Domenico. I was a little surprised and most proud to hear this news. The tradition of naming children after their grandparents might still exist in some parts of the world; but here in America, we all break new ground by constantly concocting new names to bestow our offspring. This child nods toward his ancestors and his roots in a big way. I may have to write another memoir to capture my father's life more fully for Nico's sake.
Nico's parents are musicians/songwriters/teachers. His grandfather Domenico was a musician/singer always ready with a song at the slightest opportunity. I remember vividly the times I would be lulled to sleep by one of his songs; or the times he and his mother would liven up a party with a song and a dance.
Ninna, nanna, Little One. May the songs and love of your ancestors guide your sleep and every waking moment of your life.
