Way Back Home

Do you know how many people decide to leave their home country? Every year, almost 2 million people make difficult journeys to a new nation. The Department of Homeland Security reports that the average level of immigration in the USA, for instance, between 2002 and 2006, was 1.8 million. I am one of those people who left his country, Italy, eight years ago and moved to the United States of America. Living far away from one’s own country and family is not easy. In fact, I have been reliving my “way back home” many times. When I begin to revisit my home in my imagination, I can immediately hear the pleasant sound of the bells of the neighboring church and the smell of the geraniums on the balcony of the kitchen. However, my vibrant “way back home” vividly starts when I begin to think about my Italian, fervent mother, my caring father, and my talented brother.

I cannot believe how easy it is to recall my mother. First, with just a blink of an eye, I can smell and taste my mother’s Sunday lunch. I can still smell the savory perfume of the basil, parsley, rosemary, as well as hear the boiling water in the pot ready for the pasta. Every time I close my eyes and allow my imagination to go wild, I recall Pablo Picasso who once said, “Everything you can imagine is real.” I can, indeed, remember my mother telling me to organize my room and open the windows to let natural and fresh air in. It is not difficult to recall the thundering voice of my mother asking me to drive her to the closest church for the usual Sunday function. I never thought how overjoyed I would feel just closing my eyes and recalling my adoring past life with her.

Besides having a mom who is a passionate person, I also have an adoring father. To explain, another moment at which I feel euphoric, excited, and happy is when I close my eyes and start feeling my father’s soft hand over my shoulder, and when I hear his loud voice telling me over and over again that it is the time to read our favorite book...