The Wisdom of the Elders

Maybe it's just me, but in America, it feels like we disregard our elders. We stuff them in a nursing home, and when they want to babble about days gone by, we think they're speaking nonsense, and we ignore them.

Actually, I've always been drawn to older people. One of my dearest friends in San Diego was a Ukrainian woman named Helen who had lived an unbelievable life through war, starvation, and incredible loss. She died at 98 years old.

In Italy, the Elders are Revered

So when I moved to Davoli last year, I wasn't put off by the fact that 70% of the population is over 80. In fact, I love it because they tell me such wonderful stories about how Davoli used to be.

Even at a national level, I'm surprised at the prevalence of older folks in pop culture. There are television programs where singers who were in their prime in the 1950s-70s come back to sing old favorites. At the Sanremo music fest, there are always a handful of oldies that Fra and his family get excited to see.

Open Your Mind to The Wisdom of the Elders

Several of the elders I've befriended are widows, and I recognize that they are likely a bit lonely and simply want someone to talk to.

There's Agatha, who took a liking to me immediately. She kept inviting me over for coffee until I finally accepted. In her tiny kitchen, I asked about sepia-toned photos of her family on the wall. I found out that her brother-in-law is the crazy 75-year-old South African man who visits every summer and walks around barefoot!

(Side note: Fra has NEVER been invited to Agatha's house for coffee! Just sayin'!)

Then there are the Annas. Within a stone's throw of our house, there are no fewer than four women named Anna, so we have to specify which one when we're talking about one.

My favorite has a house behind ours. Sometimes, when I'm working, I see her hanging clothes on her balcony. If she catches my eye, she asks what I'm doing and, you guessed it, invites me for coffee.

There's Liberata, the aunt of our cousin (but not related to us). When we moved in, she'd bring over whatever she was cooking for us to snack on while we chatted on the steps.

Then there are the zie in our family. Zia Concetta, before she passed away last year, was my favorite person to visit after a walk in the mountains.

"Stop by any time, Su," she'd say, and I knew she meant it.

And Zia Marianton', the family clown. She's hard of hearing and blind in one eye, and she is known for shouting profanities (just one reason I love her so much). She's gruff at first, but now that we've gotten closer, she calls me amore and tesoro!

Zia Assunta is over 90. She's hard of hearing, too, so she's happy to just sit while we gab away over dessert. She always has trouble remembering my strange name, so I also respond to Giusy and Suzy!

I've had countless conversations in passing with other women. When they see me toting herbs, they ask what I collected, then tell me how they use nettle as a shampoo or fertilizer.

To me, friendship has no age limit. There is so much we can learn from those who have come before us, if only we open our hearts and minds.