Family Ties and Old Friends



If you've ever watched the show Who Do You Think You Are? (returning to NBC on Friday, Feb 4 - yes, a shameless plug for my network), then perhaps you've been inspired to think about the history of your family. Long before the show premiered last season, I was always fascinated about knowing more about my ancestors, and when I first went to Italy in 1999, I made an unsuccessful attempt to contact my papa's family. I wrote to an address found on an old letter that my godmother had provided, but whatever the reason - too much time past, an undeliverable letter, or perhaps resentment for the brother who left the family to come to Amercia -  I never heard back. My grandfather arrived through Ellis Island with his own father and all I knew of the family left behind was a brother named Rocco who, I think had a daughter who taught English.

My mother's ancestry lies in Sicily and Lithuania and her father was a mystery to me, making quick and fleeting appearances throughout my young life. What I remember most is his great mane of hair and his German Shepard, Snoopy always at his feet at the kitchen table. To this day, I cannot recall one conversation between the two of us. Although we won't have time to visit the city where my grandpa Angelo Buccafusca's family is from, Rosemarie and I will be able to meet a dear friend of mine from high school who does live there.



One of the few pictures of me (right) with my grandpa.


It was 1981, Cinzia and I met through one of my best friends and we both held a common disdain for our English teacher. I asked her to the junior prom, but she wasn't able to go - and to this day, I'm certain it was not because of the way I looked back then. Pictures will not be posted. When Cinzia relocated back to Sicily before graduation, we kept in touch for a while but as is common, we lost contact. But this is a new day and age - where old friends are easily found through Facebook and we've since reconnected. This summer, she's going to meet both of us in Rome and spend the day with my mom and me. The capital city is a two hour Eurostar trip from Florence, and I couldn't be more excited. Although it's been over 25 years since we've seen each other, I have no doubt that the two of us will fall back into place as if no time has passed.

It would be wonderful to find some of the Tella's from Ortona - do I resemble any of them? Are we alike in ways that are obvious? Do they look like my papa? Does Rosemarie look like her father's Sicilian relatives? We probably will never know, but showing Italy to Rosemarie is a way for us both to connect with parts of our family that we remember with great memories. And with an old friend as our guide, it'll be even more special, not to mention, we won't get lost or have to rely on what passes for me speaking Italian.

What's This New Payment Technology All About?

The rain began before Christmas in Los Angeles and it seemed as if it would never end. On the east coast, my mother has had to deal with snow and freezing temperatures. It's a tale of two coasts and one that brings back many memories for me with her. There was a time when I enjoyed snow - during the Blizzard of '78, our street was impossible to navigate. We spent hours, or was it days, digging out a path to get to the grocery store. Our crazy dog loved it, disappearing in a snowbank and then reappearing seconds later to only do it again. Once the path was clear, she and I walked to the grocery store, my hand gripped firmly in hers, her head ensconced by one of her many kerchiefs and me bundled in my snow attire and walking like the Michelin tire man. As we walked around the streets of Paris last year, I thought how nice it was to still be able to walk with your mom's arm in yours, only better attired. Once at that blizzard ravaged Foodmaster, the pickings were few - not even a loaf of Wonder Bread on the shelves. There was no mail delivery for days. I never did get my last issue of Marvel Comics' Tarzan.

But today, though the cold remains, the sky in California has, at least temporarily, stopped spitting while the storms in Boston, however, seem never ending. And, today, a bright reminder of summer - I got charged the deposit for our Florence B&B. Rosemarie and I have started a travel fund so I called her this afternoon to let her know I would need to access some of it to pay my credit card. She was going to write a check, but I dismissed that right away. Snow or no snow, there was no need for the postal service now.

"We'll just pay it online," I announced having her give me her banking information. "The money will come out of the account next week."

"What do I with this check, then?" she asked.

"You can write one to anyone you like, the money will come out automatically now. Don't you pay your bills online?"

"No, no, I write them all checks. I can still use this one?" she asked, looking at her checkbook as I knew she was doing.

"Of course, I didn't use that check number, silly, just the banking information." There was a silence as she processed this new fangled payment technology. "But if you feel the need to still write a check, then any amount to me will do."