Our Discomfort Has A Name

WHAT IS THIS FEELING?

Following last month’s DM post on the Italian Diaspora, the next logical step is to reflect on WWI. Rummaging through a few boxes, a photo turned up depicting WWI Gromignana soldiers. I had used the photo in a college term paper. Initially, the only person I cared about in the photo was my grandfather, Giovanni. With the eyes of a 70 year old versus that of a college sophomore, the photo came into full view. Now I examined each man. Who were these 42 men? What became of them? Clearly, the 13 men featured in the center died during the war. These were men that my three grandparents from Gromignana would have known. Most of them were likely related in some way, or friends. I too am related to many of them. This realization brought on a strange and unidentifiable feeling. What am I feeling?

Who Were These Men?

In an attempt to discover my unease, I thought researching these fallen soldiers might shed light on my feelings. Luigi Casani may be family or at least a close family friend, so I began with him. I found an article in the Louisville Courier Journal (January 4, 1919) announcing Luigi’s death (see below). Since Luigi is indentified as the nephew of Zeffiro Grisanti, who is an uncle to both my Louisville grandparents, it only makes sense that Luigi knew them and our family at the time. Turns out he worked with my grandfather in Louisville. Why had I never heard of Luigi and his great sacrifice?

All The Others Who Perished

Luigi is just the first of 13 men in the photo who died. What of the others? Searching the records, no other information popped up on the remaining 12. In hopes of discovering additional information, I wrote to a fellow family researcher. Loretta in Australia is the family authority on our Gromignana ancestors; she might be able to shed some light on the deceased soldiers. A few days after my request, and thinking Loretta would have just smattering of data, came her overwhelming response! She’d compiled information on almost every man in the photo. She also shared the photo of the Coreglia Antelminelli war memorial (above). Since there is so much information I have created a Gromignana scrapbook page. CLICK HERE to view the information Loretta has so generously shared with our DM community. Thanks so much, Loretta!

The Feelings Intensified

After receiving and researching the information Loretta shared, instead of soothing my emotional turmoil, my discomfort intensified. I struggled to name the feeling. I began to Google, searching for a term. Googling this and that, I finally hit on a Harvard Business Review article “That Discomfort You’re Feeling Is Grief.” After reading this interview with David Kessler, a grief specialist, I knew my feelings were grief. Researching the deaths of these young men stirred the memories of the distant death of my friend, Marcia, who died too soon. Reading about young men who lost their lives before their lives had a chance to begin awakened complex emotions that are ever present in my subconscious, easily surfacing during times like these. Living every day with Coronavirus death statistics prevents me, and all of us, from escaping the reality that life is unpredictable and brimming with uncertainty.

In A Storm of Uncertainty

Kessler says, “Yes, … we’re feeling a number of different griefs. We feel the world has changed, and it has. We know this is temporary, but it doesn’t feel that way, and we realize things will be different. Just as going to the airport is forever different from how it was before 9/11, things will change and this is the point at which they changed. The loss of normalcy; the fear of economic toll; the loss of connection. This is hitting us and we’re grieving. Collectively. We are not used to this kind of collective grief in the air.” How true this is now and must have been during WWI. Can you imagine the fear and anxiety people experienced without instant communication? In retrospect, I am mourning Luigi who laid dying without even the aid of an IPad to say good bye to his family.

Waiting For Word

While Luigi’s family knew the war ended on November 11th, what had become of him? How must they have felt, waiting? Thanksgiving came, no word, then Christmas. Notice of Luigi’s death arrived on January 3, 1919, weeks after he died. He’s buried in the Meuse-Angonne American Cemetery, Romange, France. Like so many Coronavirus families today, Luigi died without his family by his side. How can we not grieve for him and all who are now departing so unceremoniously? An estimated 40 million died in WWI, another 50 million died in the 1918 flu pandemic, a fifth of the world’s population which included my great grandmother, Teresa Liva and her son, Innocente! So far the Coronavirus has sickened millions and has killed 300,000 worldwide. These are big numbers. We grieve for all who suffer because attached to each life lost is a network of family and friends touching us all.

The Meaning of It All?

David Kessler believes that “We find control in acceptance.”  After acceptance, he says, we have an opportunity to find meaning. Well, he may be right, but I have found little meaning in the loss of loved ones and the constant “chipping away” at our way of life. I believe in a higher power but in the manner Einstein suggests, “Human beings, vegetables, or cosmic dust, we all dance to a mysterious tune intoned in the distance by an invisible player.” Who is this “invisible player” we call God? Why does He allow suffering? We’ll likely never know the answer to that question but we have faith that there is meaning in suffering as Christ taught us. Suffering with big and little things is now our lot in life. We will eventually accept and move on, just as those before us did. Let us take a moment to remember our heroes.