I remember coming to the States. My father was already here so he could start making a life for us. I remember walking down Madison Avenue and encountering new people gazing from their windows and stoops as we pass by. Cars passed by us and I knew not to give into my curiosity. I followed my mother pulling the trunk behind me my younger sister Rose following me. Papa was in the front followed by Frankie and Charles. They would search for jobs tomorrow to help support our family; there was six of us after all.

“Come on Emma take your sister and follow your brothers to your bedroom” Papa instructed me.
“Yes Papa” I answered as I bounded up the stairs after the boys.

   The house was small and compact with the four of us in one bedroom and our parents in the other. There was still noise even at night as people who need work roam the streets for anything they can find to eat. During the day they searched for jobs and anything that yielded money. In Malta we had a life but in New York, papa said that we we have the chance to do whatever we want out of life. Mama taught me to cook and clean and care for children. She taught me to find a man that would make me happy. We attended church on n Sunday’s and had large meals afterwards. We made pasta but the flour rations made it tough. Papa, Frankie and Charles worked six days a week for hour’s day, but they did it for us. They worked so we could have things some people didn’t have.

“Emma the place for a women is the home. You know this” Mama scolded me when I asked why I couldn’t work like Frankie and Charles and some girls I used to see in shops as  I passed  by.

“Yes Mama, I’m sorry I forgot” I apologized looking down in shame.

Mama always told me and Rosie to find a husband with a good job because they could provide for us and our families. A man was supposed to have a job and a woman was supposed to be the perfect housewife. That’s what they taught Mama in Malta and that’s what Mama taught us in New York.  I found Eugene Richichi when I was 25. I remember introducing Eugene to my parents.

“Mama, Papa this is Eugene Richichi” I introduced Eugene to my parents already prepared for the interrogation they were about to perform.

“What is your job Eugene?” Papa questioned as we sat by the dinner table.

“I’m a fireman at the 147 Flatbush firehouse in Brooklyn” Eugene answered.

“Does it pay well?” Mama then asked with a slight disappointment in her voice.

“Yes ma’am, I already have a house in Brooklyn and we can rent out the top floor for extra money if we need” Eugene answered confidently.

“We approve Emma,” Mama answered for the both of them getting up, “Now then let's get started in diner.”
We moved to Brooklyn and had a family. Rose got herself a husband  too but we never talked much afterwards. Mama and Papa were getting older but we still went there for Sunday dinners after church because tradition was the law in that house.  Frank was in New Jersey  and said that  he was  too far away to  visit except for Christmas of course and Charles never had a wife because he worked so much. But Charles was never in the city always out on the west coast. I abided by what Mama said all those years ago. I took care of my children, four of them to be exact. I followed my mama’s instructions by cooking and cleaning like she always said I should do. We rented out the top room like Eugene said we would and we lived comfortably in the city.

I remember moving out of the city for the first time in my life. John was 11 and  Eugene was 17. Emily was in college so she was never home and Patty stayed in Brooklyn with her husband and his sister.  There was a garage with a chin-up bar hanging from the doorway that Kim used to hang onto. We didn’t have neighbors right on top of us all the time which was a plus. The streets were quiet at night except for the crickets chirping and there was the sense of it not being home yet. But it was home at the same time.

I remember getting a job for the first time. Eugene just retired after he got sick and was on disability but it helped to have extra money.  It wasn’t very important just a job in some shop but it was my first job. I remember being taught many new things that I was never comfortable with. I was 50 when I got my first job even if it was small.

I remember driving a car for the first time. Eugene and John taught me. John also taught Patty when she was 18.

“Mom it’s simple. You know you can do this remember what dad taught you” John reassured me.

It was going through the motions as Eugene told me. I never drove much because we always walked in the city and I never had an excuse to leave the house until I started working.

I remember spending summers with my grandchildren. Kimmy is 11 years younger than John and Amy is two years behind her. Kimmy spent weeks here cooking with me and cleaning or doing the laundry in the spring they planted the garden and always mowed the lawn.

THey fished with Eugene and I and we always took trips to the firehouse. Up in the catskills we swam in the creek in the backyard at Eugene’s mother’s old house. We visited St. Patrick’s in the city during the winter after visiting the rockefeller center and seeing the show.

Lloyds was an occurrence that happen at least once a week and always got custard. Kim and Amy always wanted pizza too.

“Don’t make it well done” Eugene always instructed over the phone.

“Grandpa I’m sure they won’t” Amy always retorted.

We spent hours playing trouble and cards after Eugene went to sleep and always watched wheel of fortune no matter what. Soap Operas were a staple in my house and Kimmy always said that they were addictive.

I remember all of these things but not completely. I don’t remember Malta anymore because that was so long ago and my relatives are mystery to me. I don’t remember Mama’s face or Papa’s hair. Charles is completely nonexistent just a name that doesn’t have a body. I don’t remember what happened to Emily or Eugene. I know my husband died after he got severely sick but what happened to my son is a mystery.

I get visitors periodically but I don’t remember who they are. Sometimes I think that they’re Emily and Eugene or Amy and Kim. I sing to them and they seem to like it enough. When I remember that day I know that they’re my great-grandchildren, Kim’s kids but they know I don’t usually remember at this point.

“Hey mom do you want to look at pictures today?” John asks, he brings his family even if I don’t know who they are.

“Sure” is all I answer because I know that it will happen anyways.

“Remember this mom?” John asks showing me a picture of him and Kim in front of a large christmas  tree, “This was at Rockefeller Center, , I was eighteen and Kim was seven, Amy was five but she didn’t want to be in the picture. We saw the Rockettes like always and then visited the ice skating rink to see the tree. We skated that year, you, me and Kimmy. Dad and Amy didn’t like too and Amy was too young at the time anyways. We visited St. Pats afterwards before we went home because you love that Church so much. Patty is starting to do that with Annabelle and Christopher, Kim’s kids. She learned from you though mom. They go and see the Rockettes and then visit the tree. They’re too young to skate yet though; Annabelle’s only six and Chris is four. But they still visit the church. It’s still as beautiful as it was when you last visited.”

I don’t remember my old self anymore. My memories come in old faded photographs and stories that John and Patty tell me from when they were younger.  I remember bits and pieces of my life but complete things are hard to come by. Fragments are all I can grasp at this point and know my memory is slipping through the cracks. 

But even though I don’t remember anymore I know that my memories and new ones will be passed on. Memories will survive through my children, grandchildren and maybe these stories will be told to my great-grandchildren one day.