We are collecting the stories of Italian families who emigrated around the world in search of a better life. People who often left all their loved ones and their belongings to ensure a future for their families. It is right to tell these stories of strength, love, resilience, and attachment to one's roots, in a world where too often everything is taken for granted. Today we tell you the story of the family of Maria de los Angeles Florencia Di Gianfelice.
“My father was called Antonio. He was born in Pietraforte, in the province of Rieti, on October 14, 1901. He emigrated to Argentina in 1923, at the age of 22. Before leaving for Argentina, in Italy he was a Carabiniere and was part of the guard of King Vittorio Emanuele.
It was my grandparents who decided to send him to Argentina, since at that time there was talk of the possibility of a war with France. He had already experienced the First World War first-hand, which he faced at only 13 years old, taking care of my grandmother Virginia and her five brothers, while my grandfather Domenico was at the front.
For these reasons, my grandparents took action to organize the trip. He left on a steamship flying the Italian flag, the King Victor, sailing from Naples on November 23, 1923. I cannot clearly distinguish the date of arrival in Buenos Aires.
From there he moved to San Nicolás, where he was hosted by a relative. Shortly afterward he moved to General Conesa to work in the fields. Later he settled permanently in Rosario, where he took root and formed his family.
He studied and graduated as a Construction Technician, founding his own construction and plumbing company. In the mid-30s he married Carolina, who gave birth to my two older siblings, Margarita and Mario. After being widowed, he remarried my mother, Antonia, with whom he had two daughters: Martha and Maria de los Ángeles (me).
He managed to meet three of his six grandchildren: Verónica, Viviana and Mauricio. He returned to Italy after 40 years of absence. My grandfather Domenico had already passed away in the meantime, but there was his family waiting for him. Mom , my grandmother Virginia. Their meeting was like touching the sky with his hands again for Dad. After two years, my grandmother died at the age of 90.
I always remember how much my dad sang: that's how I learned all the songs and even how to speak Italian. I also remember his moments of silence, with his gaze lost in the void. It was then that I began to understand the true meaning of distance and the tears that escaped him without being able to hold them back. How hard it is to be separated from your homeland. Despite the letters and phone calls with his parents and siblings, and despite having built his own family, nostalgia would resurface every now and then.
Dad, for me and for us his children, has always been an example of perseverance and dedication to work. He made us study in religious schools and at Dante Alighieri. The values he passed on to us were fundamental: respect for others, sharing, the importance of study and work. And above all the unconditional love he always gave us.
I just have to thank for having had the best dad in the world. I always feel him with me: in many daily situations his words and advice resonate in my mind. Many years have passed since he left, but he lives forever in my heart.”
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