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How could I forget Grotteria: my childhood town, where I was born, raised, married.

It started in 1951 when I was born, my parents told me that even in poverty they celebrated my arrival after two boys.

I was raised as a princess but not spoiled.

I went to school until middle school. Studious, good, serious.

At the age of 16 I met a boy who bewitched my heart with whom, after two months of acquaintance, we got married.

Nearly immediately after a few months we left for Canada, precisely to Montreal in Quebec.

But we haven’t forgotten about our home town.

Every year we returned to spend the holidays with our families and our beautiful Ionian sea.

We would spend two or three months enjoying every little place in Calabria. We have visited it far and wide.

We usually tried to go in the months when there were all the patronal feasts that we didn’t ever miss. Not even one.

Those were unforgettable days that remained indelible in my heart.

From our marriage two beautiful girls were born, now mothers, who gave us beautiful grandchildren.

Calabria in my heart.

Even today, after 53 years of separation, I think of it as it was on the first day we left.

Now I haven’t been able to visit her for a few years because of health, but there is no day that my heart doesn’t cry for being apart.

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