|Mom and Dad on Lighthouse Beach, Chatham, Massachusetts|
I haven't written much about my parents here. Where does one start on a subject like that? My folks are pretty awesome. They're generous and loving people, and they've been wonderfully supportive of the choices my sisters and I have made in our lives. They encourage the "do what makes you happy" philosophy while carefully monitoring the practicality and wiseness of our decisions.
They had an interesting reaction to my decision to move to Alaska. Mom's initial reaction was a "yahoo! Go for it!" sort of thing. Dad was a bit stunned and had to process the information for a few days. I think the news took some time to sink in for my mother because the next thing I heard was that she was also devastated. I received a lengthy e-mail from him several days later in which he was clearly upset that I was moving. I also sensed a touch of anger because he said that they wouldn't help out financially. I was on my own. My parents have done well for themselves, but they're not 1% folks by a long shot. To be perfectly honest though, they've helped me financially many times- mostly with big purchases and travel money. They are the sort of parents that would make sure I could finance health insurance and other important expenses. Dad implied this would not be the case this time.
They took a trip to Florida a couple of weeks later with my aunts, uncles and other family members, and they all discussed my move at length over the course of the weekend. Apparently, they managed to convince my parents that this move was an excellent idea for me at the point in my life. I wasn't there to hear exactly what was said, but I had a couple of reliable sources of intel afterwards. I noticed a huge difference in them after that weekend in Florida. Not surprisingly, Dad came to me and said that he had changed his mind. If I got myself into a pickle, they would help me out. I was very grateful to hear that, but I told him that I planned to do this on my own, but I was happy to know they would have my back.
To be perfectly honest, I felt way worse about my last day of work the other day than I do about my last day on Cape Cod. I know if might be perhaps because this house will be here when I come back for visits, but my BoCo gig is straight up over. I dunno. It might be because of the ghost that lives in my parents' house. I'm kinda ready to be done with this place for a while. I'm not even joking. I've come to believe that there's a spirit (I think a friendly one) residing in this house. On one occasion, I heard footsteps upstairs on a quite night while no one was up there. Another time, I was half asleep in bed, and the comforter was pulled right off me. I was there- I have no explanation for either experiences. Then LAST night at 3:30am, we awoke to a horrible sound of banging and glass shattering. After a little investigation, we had found that TWO large framed photograph collections of myself and my sister had fallen off the wall. We went back to bed, but then I had the horrible experience of hearing footsteps three more times AND guess what? Yes, my comforter was pulled off my bed again last night. I was laying there thinking to myself, WTF? I'm outta here.
My theory is that it's the spirit of my grandmother, Sylvette Giorgio, who passed in 1970s. My parents are having some major renovations performed on the house at the moment, and I suspect her spirit is unsettled because of it. Sylvette convinced my grandfather, Peter, to buy this small property in the 60s and build a house. I've been coming to this vacation house since I was born. Growing up, we mostly came during the summer, but we also spent every Thanksgiving here. After my grandfather passed, the house went to my father and his two brothers. Eventually, my parents bought out the two brothers who in turn bought their own homes in the area. Our numbers are quite large now that almost all of my older eight cousins have families of their own. We have quite a Giorgio presence in the town of Chatham these days, especially because my cousin Michael has a very successful bar and restaurant in town, The Red Nun. We went there for lunch today. Fish tacos, a fish sandwich and a burger were ordered up. If you ever find yourself in Chatham, do yourself a favor and have a bite to eat. The lingo for dropping by for a pint is "going to The Nun for one".
|Chef/Manager Cousin Michael and Me|
|A VERY typical Sunday morning scene|
|Dad makes pizza on my last night on Cape Cod|
|A sailboat in Chatham harbor|
|There's always something to explore at the beach... like these alien jelly things that were all over the place today.|
|White Shark Bait|
|Lighthouse Beach Dork|
|Coast Guard Station|
|A Cape Cod Sunset|
|Bridge at Ridgevale Beach|
|Cape Cod Light in Truro|
|Our seaside victory garden|
|The house from the water|
|Me kayaking in front of the house|