Signora Sheila

Autumn is slowly creeping into our area. The grape and olive harvests are in full swing. The days are lovely and warm, but not uncomfortably hot. Nights are sometimes chilly enough for a very light blanket.

For some reason, autumn always reminds me of Nonno’s house, our summer home. It’s the house where my husband was born and where we’ve been going ever since we arrived in Italy over 36 years ago.

Oh, how our kids loved going “over the river and through the woods” to Nonno’s house! Below is the bridge and the beautiful, forested, rocky mountains we crossed! “It’s just like Heidi’s house!” they would exclaim. The old-fashioned place really was, but not quite so isolated.

This is the home where my husband was born.

Back then, people in this area didn’t go to the hospital because it was probably too far away, and they likely didn’t have a car. Home births were the norm, so he was born right here.

This humble village in the isolated mountains of Italy’s Campania region lacks amenities.

Despite this, it was an enchanting vacation spot for our children. They could roam freely through the countryside, splash in the fountains, and collect nature specimens. They could also visit Nonno at the coffee bar where he played cards, anticipating the ice cream he was sure to buy them. Every once in a while, they could even catch a ride on a farmer’s donkey.

Such was a visit to Nonno’s house!

A different time. Simple days with a slower pace. A time when people enjoyed simple pleasures and lived life to the fullest, without the internet, shopping malls, and cell phones. We made our own fun. We had time to spend with friends and neighbors. We watched ants crawl and birds fly. We took the time to smell the roses, take leisurely strolls, and relax without the stress of so many deadlines and schedules.

Even in our earliest visits back in 1989, the agricultural life that made old-time Italy so special was dwindling. Along with the simpler, slower quality of life that is being lost in Europe as a whole, with its cultures becoming more global, homogenous, and bland). And in my opinion, less rich culturally.

But who knows? Maybe the stress and difficulties we’re facing in the Western world will call us back to a simpler life. Maybe we can reclaim some of the true treasures we’ve lost along the way! I hope so because I believe places like our Grandfather house should always exist.

But everything changes

Last summer, I shared that our visits to Nonno’s house were coming to an end. Once I recover from my surgery, we plan to head south and permanently close the house. It has become too difficult for me to travel there and climb the long, steep stairs leading up to the house.

And as the town turns into a ghost town, it’s become rather depressing. Each time we visit, the news is mostly about the latest funerals and people who have moved away. Sadly, we have watched the population drop from 800 to 200 during our time here. It’s been sad to watch, and I’m sure it’s even sadder for those living there.

The dismantling of Nonno’s house will mark the end of something very special to us. It will be especially hard for Hubby because it’s his ancestral home. There’s a lot of emotional attachment there. But it it’s also sad because, in many ways it’s like seeing an era and a way of life come to an end.

However, I hope that some of the best aspects of that era and way of life will survive. I will certainly do my best to ensure they remain in our home and family!

Images are my own.