My Parents

One of my cousins sent me this picture of my parents. They were special people. There is not a day a day that goes by that I do not think of them. My dad passed away 22 years this past week and my mom passed away 23 years ago. They made me who I am and for that I am so grateful. They were immigrants from the Italian Canton of Switzerland, Ticino. They came to this country not speaking a word of English and learned both English and Spanish. Neither had any significant education. My mom went to four years of elementary school and one year of high school in the US before my grandfather took her out of school to work. My dad went through the eighth grade in Switzerland. They were married at the height of the great depression. I remember my dad telling me stories of getting up at four in the morning to milk cows for ten dollars a week and a house. My mom was an amazing cook, not just Italian food but Mexican food that she had learned to cook work on the dairy farm the Mexican lady who was the cook. My dad was a gardener. As head grounds keeper at Santa Barbara High School the lawns were a work of art. My dad had a beautiful signing voice; some of my earliest memories were of him signing Italian and Spanish ballads. They sacrificed to put my brother and I through Parochial schools and helped me with my college education. I get my love of learning and reading from my mom and stubbornness and determination from my dad. Thanks mom and dad I love you and think about you all the time, your were very special.