Dreaming Under the Sicilian Sun

I’m not sure how old I was, my brother was there, my parents told me I was adopted. All they knew was that my biological father was Sicilian. Sicily became to be this place of magic and mystery to me. Sicilian customs, such as Catholicism and the Mafia, we’re attractive to me.

Before I go much further, I have to say that my adoptive parents are the two best people I have ever met, and I could not have been luckier to be adopted by them. My brother, who is their biological son, always treats me like a real brother. They love me, shower me with education and culture, and they stayed by my side even when I was at my worse – which was pretty bad. No other people will ever be my parents.

Being adopted opens up this feeling of disconnectedness and some extreme identity issues. You have no idea how much a person’s lineage dictates their identity. Customs are handed down from parents and grandparents, but if you aren’t the blood of those customs, those customs seem totally alien to you. It becomes a journey to find where you belong. Even with loving parents, I had a hard time feeling at home anywhere. It makes me feel like Pinocchio wandering around trying to be a real boy, and I almost became a donkey if it weren’t for my parent’s tenacity.

The whole time Sicily is sitting there in the Mediterranean Sea with its ancient mystique. Blood of almost every empire spilled on that island. I couldn’t help but compare myself to Sicily to the way I was bullied as a kid. I even hold on to some of the resentments still from some of those childhood beatings and torment, and I have been told a grudge is a very Sicilian thing to keep.

During the early years of turning my life around, I began a journey to become me. One of those journeys was track g down my biological mother. I had heard people finding their biological parents and rejoining their lives and even drifting the gap between biological and adoptive parents. I just wanted some answers. I just wanted to maybe feel like I belong to earth for once.

She was dead. I found a woman broken with addiction and mental health issues. I found a woman who never had the chances I had. I found a path I could have taken.

In 2000, my adoptive mom took me to Italy. We went to Rome, Florence, Milan, and Venice. I was so excited and everything I saw was amazing. Italy is a magical place. There is a power that runs through that peninsula. People were asking me things in Italian before I had to ruin the moment with my English. While the trip was amazing, I kept looking south towards Sicily.

In 2003 I went to Spain with my best friend. It was an amazing experience. Saw lots of Roman roads, Moorish towers, and Basque villages. We baked in the hot Mediterranean sun. I imagined that this was as close to Sicily I ever was going to get.

During my search for my mom, I found an Uncle. I met that uncle, my mothers older brother, in New York City in 2010. He told me that while his family is also from Sicily, they were Jewish. This really made what I knew of myself even more alien. I had walked into Catholic churches hoping to feel some kind of connection. Now I had to start looking at Synagogues.

All my Jewish friends were not surprised I was one of them. One even said, ”Of course you are, you’re funny and you hate yourself .”

Sicily became a bigger mystery to me. I could only really follow my lineage through history books. I had given up on the idea of ever seeing Sicily for myself.

In 2015, I met a woman who I fell madly in love with. She had crazy big black hair that had grey streaks. She had olive skin and was short and voluptuous. She was loud, volatile, and funny. She is also Sicilian. We were inseparable after we got together. We fell deeply in love and got married.

There was something about her that made me feel like I belonged. I didn’t feel like a fraud or an imposter when we were together. I want to build a home with her.

She grew up in a Sicilian American household in Massachusetts and Rhode Island, so she had a pretty strong connection to her roots and family. Her family’s traditions are her traditions to accept or reject.

Tomorrow morning we are flying to Italy for our honeymoon. The last week we are there will be in Sicily. We are living a dream. We are dipping our toes in the Mediterranean Sea, where our ancestors had. All of Southern Italy is this Pagan mystery. Ancient civilizations tried and only partially could tame the southern peninsula and Sicily.

I am so lucky to see our ancient home with the woman of my dreams. I can’t help but think that wasn’t allowed to see Sicily until Nicole and I were ready to go together.