My grandfather came over to Australia from his village in Italy. My grandmother continued to write to him, including one postcard that was a reminder photo of his two sons, my dad and uncle, taken when dad was about 12. On the back of the postcard she wrote:
Dear husband
I am sending you this photograph
we have taken in front of our house
to make you remember us.
Do not think we have become a little crooked.
We are standing on the sloping street.
Look how big our sons are.
Mario is already taller than Antonio.
I think you will know which is Mario.
All three of us send you a thousand kisses.
Today is the feast-day of Saint’ Antonio
may he bring us his grace.
My dad was two years old when my grandfather left.
My parents came out from Italy at grandfather’s request as he wasn’t able to get the money he was making back to Italy. Dad didn’t talk much about it but there was a level of dissatisfaction in his life. He was frustrated with being here.