Wind In the Flowers

Sometime around the time of the rumblings to the lead up to WWII, they fled Mussolini and came from the town of Castrovillari in the region of Calabria to New York, by way of ship to Ellis Island.
Their native land was a mountainous coastal area in southern Italy with gorgeous lavender farms against a backdrop of mountains. 

Frank and Fortunata Cedraro were their names.  He was a tailor, played the mandolin, loved opera, and smoked cigars.  She was quiet and kind, a homemaker that made the best lasagna, pizza, and meatballs I've ever had.  They loved America and were proud to have immigrated here. They only spoke Italian. 

They raised three daughters - the youngest, Maria, was my mom.  All those people (my aunts and uncles, grandparents, mom and dad (the English side), have all passed on and with them, the memorable Sunday dinners and holiday celebrations, crowded around a big table in my Aunt Teresa and Uncle Sammy's house in North Babylon, NY.  Yes, I miss them all and the life and times we had together. 

This year however, I am taking a trip to see their hometown in Italy, find the church they were married in, and visit the lavender farms in that area.  I wonder if once there, I will ever want to come back?