Our Mommyhood

By Brook, Staff Writer, baby&sofia (@babyandsofia)

My husband is Italian. Not Jersey Shore Italian, but actually Italian.  When we moved to the States two years ago, it was the first time Giuseppe had ever resided in America.  And he is still learning how to balance his culture with that of fast-paced America, especially when it comes to family life.

To say that Italians are family-oriented is an understatement; family is everything in Italy.  Adult children live with their parents long past graduation from college, up until the day they are married or are able to buy a home of their own.  The logic is simple: why waste money on rent and live in a lonely apartment by yourself?  All three meals are eaten together almost everyday, usually at home.  Visits to aunts, uncles and especially grandparents occur at least weekly. Decisions are made not only for the best interest of the individual, but for that of the family.

The sense of family is only reinforced by the Italian economy.  High unemployment, low salaries and expensive real estate all help to keep the family unit together longer than the average American family.  Couples generally aren’t married until they are well into their mid-thirties and are having fewer and fewer babies. In fact the Italian population growth is stagnant, hovering at 0%.

In these times it is rare for an Italian Grandmother to become a Great-Grandmother.  At 26, Giuseppe is certainly not the eldest of his cousins, but he is the only one who has a child.  Giuseppe’s grandma, Nonna Nada, is 84-years-old and never thought she would live to see the day one her grandchildren became a parent.  But to have her sole great-grandchild born in the United States, thousands of kilometers from Naples, was nothing short of a personal Greek tragedy.  Sending pictures, phone calls and the occasional Skype call were simply not enough.

When we announced our trip to visit Naples last month, Nonna Nada was beyond elated.  When we arrived with the baby, she told us, with tears in her eyes, that she never thought she would live to meet any of her great grandchildren.

While I come from an extremely family-oriented American family, we still can’t compete with our Italian counterparts. My grandparents were excited to meet Paolo, but their sentiments certainly pale in comparison.  I have numerous cousins both older and younger than myself that are already flush with children.  My grandparents, maternal and paternal, have been made great-grandparents many times over.  Don’t get me wrong; they love Paolo and were thrilled to meet him, but he wasn’t the first great-grandbaby and luster had already worn off.

But Giuseppe’s grandmother was tearfully joyous to make his acquaintance.

In Italy, Paolo’s arrival was celebrated in a way that I can only really describe as a something you would expect to see in the film The Godfather.  To put it simply: after several parties and endless guests, we left Italy two suitcases and several boxes heavier than we arrived, flush with baby gifts.

As we left Italy all I could really think about was how difficult it must be for Giuseppe’s relatives to watch us board a plane for America, so far from Naples.  We did our best to reassure Nonna Nada that we would be back to visit next Spring, but she just smiled and told us she was so happy that she was able to meet her first great-grandchild.  Which, I suppose is an amazing event for an Italian Granny.

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