Missing pieces

I don’t know a great deal about the Rebuli side of the family. In fact, I know very little about my grandfather – my dad’s father. This saddens me and to date all efforts I have made to find out more has led to very little new information. I am sorry that I didn’t ask my dad more questions when I had the chance but the truth is, I don’t think he could have added a great deal extra considering he was only a very small child of 3 years when my grandfather left to start a new life for his family in Australia. And then, dad was only 7 years old when he himself left with my grandmother, his sister Dorina (8 years old) and brother Elvio (6 years old) to finally meet up with his father. Another brother – Guido – would be born in Adelaide, Australia in 1938. The memories of Bigolino – a small town in the Veneto foothills situated next to the River Piave and famous for the sparkling white wine called Prosecco – would have been very foggy indeed.

L-R: My Zia Dorina, Zio Elvio, Nonna, and my dad (Albino but known as Vito).  Circa 1928

Perhaps I should have asked more questions of my grandmother but she passed away in 1977 when I was only 12 years old and too young to really understand the significance of knowing one’s family history. I am so sorry that I know so little of my grandfather, Bruno Rebuli, his parents and family. But I will document the little that I do know as I continue my search and perhaps something more will come to light in the future.

What am I doing?

We all have within us a desire to know who we are. And for many of us, we reach a point in our lives when we start to wonder why our life have taken the path it has. I am not even going to start to pretend that I am going to attempt to answer that question. However, I do feel that I owe it to my family to at least document what I know about those who have shaped my journey to where I am today. It is in no way a story about me but my small tribute to them - my grandparents, my parents and others along the way. I guess it is my way of making sure that they can live just a little bit longer even if I am the only one that will ever read the words about these very special people. Not special because they achieved any degree of fame during their lives but special to me because they are my family.