Kneesocks 2017-18

Monday, June 28th, 1954

“Oh Maria, how you’ve grown.” I let him pull me into a hug, but I did not hug back.

Dear Diary,

He greeted the rest of the family, and I could tell the moment Mamma told him about Angelo. His face was struck with anguish before he fought to hide his grief. We travelled through the busy streets of Toronto until we reached Papà’s wood working shop. It was not in the best condition, the paint was peeling and the glass windows had holes in them. I wondered what had caused these holes. To me it did not matter, as long as I could rest somewhere. Now I must actually rest, so goodbye until tomorrow diary.

I have not slept at all since Angelo passed. He is all I can think about. My sense of loss is overwhelming. At times, I feel as though I am living in a nightmare from which I cannot wake. When Mamma and Alessandra told me that our ship was landing today, it meant nothing to me. I felt no joy, only numbness. When we disembarked, it was complete chaos. Everybody was going in different directions and shouting at one another. I followed Mamma and Alessandra from line to line. We met with the immigration officials, but I did not understand what was discussed. Eventually, we were waved through so everything must have been fine. Amongst the busy crowd, I spotted a familiar face.

“Papà!” Liliana yelled running over to him.

“Oh my, hello there. It’s Maria, is it not?” he chuckled. I don’t really understand him. How can he laugh in a time of such misery?

“It most definitely is not,” I flatly remarked.

“Is that Liliana? My baby girl? The last time I saw you, you were tiny,” said Papà.

“I am so glad to see you Papà! Maria is the grumpy one over there,” Liliana giggled. Papà turned to me and smiled. I did not smile back.

12  HAVERGAL COLLEGE