Nanna Francesca and ‘posse’ outside the Fossa house in 1975 (including Pierina, far left, Nonno Anni’s cousin, born the same year he was, who lived in his family’s house after they’d migrated to Australia).
As I got older, I learnt how it felt to be the younger woman, standing amid the older women but just that little bit behind, waiting for your turn to step forward. The same way, as you sat together in conversation, the older women’s talk would dominate – topics hurtling from food to people to unfamiliar happenings and I’d be grasping to hold on as we were whisked away into another story.
There were times I’d get restless and think I’d much rather be off somewhere else, or seeing what Nonno Anni and ‘the men’ were up to, but Nanna Francesca would weld me with her eyes to stay put and for that I’m grateful now. It was then that I learnt to listen, sitting quietly, and now I realise the value of basking in the company of older women who’ve seen much, dealt with much and have so much precious experience to impart – as well as perhaps that ciambella cake recipe. 😘✨💛
Thank you to great-granny Maddalena who showed me about forbearance, cheekiness, growing vegetables and cooking minestrone and great-grandma Charlotte for her work ethic, kindness, growing gerberas and carnations and baking scones.
Zoë Boccabella 