Lourdes was born in Brazil in November 1934. She was the daughter of Italian immigrants who left the scarcity of Macerata, Italy, and migrated, planting their dreams in the fertile soil of the New World. The effort didn’t pay off as expected. They never made the fortune they had been promised and had to work hard in farm labor to survive in America better than in Europe. But they did it somehow, and Lourdes was the longest-lasting of the Casadidio family.
Two years earlier, this boy, Paulo, was born in July. As the child of immigrant parents from Northern Treviso, Italy, he was luckier than Lourdes because his parents were educated enough to help them settle in a new country. His father could drive and repair cars—valuable skills at a time when automobiles were replacing horses, and poor immigrants were replacing enslaved people just set free without government assistance.
Lourdes was hoeing a field when they crossed paths. She labored under the scorching sun, while Paulo was driving his employer’s car as part of his responsibilities as a farm manager. As he watched, he noticed the new girl and recognized that she had faced a hard life, despite her stiff, solid, and beautiful appearance. Like her entire family, she likely experienced hunger and scarcity at times, but when their eyes met, none of that mattered.
They married in 1954 and had nine children. Because Paulo needed to work on new land in the recently developed western part of the state, they moved out of the city. Years later, when Paulo became an employee at a coffee processing and export company, it seemed like the perfect opportunity to move back to their hometown. Lourdes, the mother and head of the family, accompanied him, leaving behind my mother, married and settled in that area.
Last month marked the end of that beautiful story. After a lifetime of happiness in a home filled with grandchildren and laughter, Lourdes had to say her goodbyes. She asked my aunt to express her regret at not sharing a final kiss. I had planned to spend a week with her, but she had to leave five days early. Guided by my grandfather, who had passed away two years earlier, she joined her husband in the afterlife and lived happily ever after.
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