This is dedicated to Father Gentile
I can’t remember the names of streets I frequently drove on in Athens, Georgia. I was speaking with one of my dearest friends, Leslie, the other day and I realized I’m starting to let go of Athens. Not the people or particular places (UGA, Ben Burton Park, my former street, Rubber Soul, The Grit), but the aesthetic of Athens in general. Unsurprising, I remember every road surrounding the University of Pittsburgh in Oakland, and honestly most roads I drove on in Pittsburgh. This realization brought me back to the homily Father Gentile gave on Christmas Eve. Father Gentile has been my priest for as long as I can remember, and I am very blessed and honored to have this man as a life-time friend and religious guide. Each Christmas Eve, luminaries adorn each side of the curvy streets leading to Lewin Lane and St. John Fisher Parish, the church that taught me how to believe. Like all years past, these lights brought me both awe and comfort. Unlike previous years, I was feeling very out of place in Pittsburgh and missing Athens until I arrived at mass. Even with the newly painted and stunning murals on the walls, every aspect of this building is both familiar and homey to me. Father Gentile reiterated this sense of home in his homily, which I felt like was directed at me. What he said resonated deeply with me- that people, like trees are rooted and have roots; the roots of trees, like the people in our lives, help sustain us. Unlike trees, people can create roots in a variety of places, and we leave those roots wherever we lived. Images of my Pittsburgh roots came swarming in- St. John Fisher, The Cathedral of Learning (Forbes and Fifth), The University of Pittsburgh in general (friends Vicky and Liz), Yap Inc.’s office (26 Terminal Way off of East Carson Street), my yoga studios (East Carson Street; Penn Ave.), Woodland Hills High School (Greensburg Pike), my neighborhood and all of the Italians that live there, memories of my MSW program/my friends (my very first social work roots), and most importantly my family. I really love my family. I also started thinking about Cosenza and Ivrea, my two hometowns in Italy. I felt my Italian roots grounded in family, friends, the church where my parents were married, La Bella Dormiente, and beautiful landscapes I could never accurately describe. I have multiple homes. In that space, during Father Gentile’s homily, I realized that I grew up in Pittsburgh, but I became a grownup in Athens. I also came to understand that Pittsburgh, Italy, and Athens will always be homes to me, as I became rooted in these places. However, like trees, I shed my leaves and let go of things in these homes that no longer serve me. This a natural process of maturation that occurs for trees and people. We have seasons when we need to let go, be purified by snow, and then regrow; sometimes more vibrant than ever before. I started feeling my roots in Cleveland and named streets. I realized that I was forgetting what I don't need from Athens, which is then being replaced here in Cleveland. Instead of feeling removed, I felt both acutely and chronically connected to Pittsburgh, Italy, Athens, and Cleveland. I realized that we can let go of pieces, while maintaining our roots, just like trees. I think it is important to recognize that letting go of a place or person or thing, doesn’t mean we lose our roots. Letting go is such a difficult task for many of us because we get comfortable. What if trees chose to remain comfortable? We would never see new leaves. That would be a shame. It’s okay to let go and feel a connection to the things we are moving on from. Everything that has come across our paths, good or bad, served to mold who we are and what we do. It’s also okay to branch away from other trees and do what resonates most with you. For example, I honestly don’t think I would be the adamant Catholic I am had Father Gentile not been my priest. This wonderful person, never once preached about divides, hate, or attached judgement to any person in his homilies or otherwise. What I learned from Father Gentile was to try to love everybody the way that God loves me. I learned to carry my crosses bravely, the way that Jesus did that for me. I learned that a life dictated by greed would lead to a lonely life without love and filled with misery. I learned to be charitable. I learned to refrain from judgement of any human being and how to be accepting. I learned to treat others with kindness, keeping in mind the passage: "What you do to the least of people, you do unto God"; truly I try my best to be kind to everyone because I believe God is present in all people. I learned how to be forgiving. I learned differences between cultures and people are normal, which he demonstrates visually at Easter through all the different breads people across the world eat. I learned moderation. I learned to stay committed to God's causes. I learned not to let television or technology taint my mind. I learned self-respect. I learned my faith and how to believe in it, from Father Gentile. I learned a lot. He told me once to accept my fiery nature and direct it toward good causes. I learned not to hate what blazes inside and take his advice, until the day I die. In closing, I want to thank Father Gentile, for all that he taught me. I love you Father! Now I know and feel blessed to have so many homes.
1 Comment
Cindy Rizza
9/19/2023 07:38:33 am
Beautiful article! Thank you for sharing.
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