My Grandfather and Generational Pain

Happy Father's Day, Bobby!

This is yet another writing in my drafts that I had not published. I had planned to post on Valentine’s Day, but I felt it wasn’t ready. Is writing ever ready, though?

Maybe I felt I was over posting, I’m not sure. Anyway, what perfect time to share this post, on Father’s Day, about one of the men in my life that influenced me, my grandfather, Bobby.

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I had been planning on publishing a Valentine’s Day post this morning. A sappy one for my husband (I will later). There is so many other kinds of love in this world other than romantic love. Love of pets, our children, relatives. My grandfather.

When I breathed in the morning air and watched the sunrise. I thought of him. My Grandfather “Bobby” as we called him. I remembered the day he passed 31 years ago It was a clear, sunny cold day like today and Valentine’s Day.

When I think of my grandfather, I always feel an ache, a visceral pain for him. He started his young life with so much grief and yet he kept going.

When I think of his story which started in Trieste Austria (it was 1894 so it was not Italy yet). His mother passed away when he was only 3 or 4. So young. It haunted me. It haunted our family. It haunted my grandfather most of all. No one was sure how she passed away so young. At first, they thought it was tuberculosis and more recently they think it was after a miscarriage she had after a fall from a train.

My great-grandparents. My great-grandmother, a beautiful woman with haunting, dark eyes.

Grieving his own mother

My grandfather recalled to me how he cried and cried for her at night as a small child. I looked at my grandfather who was a big strong man and underneath it all he missed his mother.

My grandfather came to America with his 3 older brothers. He learned the English language and became a US citizen. He and his brothers started a business in Vermont. He soon would meet my grandmother the love of his life

He and my grandmother moved to Pennsylvania soon after they married and started a family. My grandfather and his 3 brothers owned and operated a granite quarry. My grandfather was a self-made man. He was strong. He was moody. He liked to sing. Mostly Italian opera song. When we’d ask him why he was singing he would say, “because I’m happy.”

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When we’d ask why he was singing he’d say, “because I’m happy!”

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Bobby and I would play cards I’m pretty sure he’d let me win. He also had a vegetable garden, and he would show us how to plant.

The ocean was his happy place. Most weekends he would go deep sea fishing. According to my sister, no girls were allowed his boat excursions.

He would go bowling and take us along with him. He taught us Italian; mostly swear words that I don’t remember!

He was misunderstood - like me

My grandfather was misunderstood. My mom would say I was stubborn and headstrong like he was. The moodiness too I guess I inherited. I also had his fire. I felt like he got me, and I also felt his pain. I felt the loss of his mother and still do to this day. I’m so sorry you lost her so young, Bobby. I’m so sorry you were an orphan.

He lived to be 99 and in his last days he told me he wanted to see his mom again. “I miss my mom,” he would tell me. The loss of a parent never goes away; it doesn’t matter how many years go by. He was only four when his mother passed away and he missed her his entire life.

Greif never goes away

Grief never goes away. I still miss you Bobby, 31 years later. You weren’t perfect and neither am I. You taught me so much, like to sing when I feel sad, never give up, and you are never too old to have muscles.

You are with your mother again, Bobby. We will all meet again, somewhere beyond the sea as Bobby Darrin would say.

By: Jane Deegan

Written: 2/14/25 and edited 6/15/25 -I will still need to edit more, I’m sure. If you wait for the perfect moment, or perfection - things will never get done.

Question:

Who were the men that influenced you in your life?