I know that you will enjoy visiting with Antonella DiNicola-Albi of Naugatuck, CT. This story is filled with inspiration, love, hope and traditions. We are glad that you came to spend some time with us.

Antonella is a 35 year old woman who has a song flowing from her heart. Sometimes, you may hear an accordion playing from her heart, while other times you may hear a love song.  Part of her heart belongs to Mondragone, Italy which is located in the Province of Casserta, Italy, while the other part of her heart belongs to  Castello and L'Aquila in the Abruzzo region.  Her parents, Michelina-Greco-DiNicola, and Gabrielle DiNicola must be proud of their daughter, as her heart consists of strong threads which weave her love of family and Italian traditions.     It all started with Antonella's trips to Italy every summer. "Let's go. Did you get the rope?" her father yelled.  "Yes, we put the rope on the suitcase. We are ready," her mother said. "Wait, I forgot my duffle bag," Antonella would yell from the front yard.  She could not leave for Italy without that duffle bag. It had all of the important things, such as her hair gel, earings, her favorite shirts and her favorite sandals and jeans.  A young woman can never leave for Italy without those favorite sandals!   The weight of the luggage for their 8 week vacation in Italy caused the back of the car to drag. They were all packed into that car without any leg room.   The rest of the people in the neighborhood were outside, getting their barbecue grills ready, while a few men and women worked in their garden tending to the tomatoes and flowers.  Antonella looked out of the back window of the car as they left for the airport. She knew that her summer vacation would be filled with family, love, gelato, delicious food, biscotti and the best chocolate on earth.  The nutella in Italy would replace peanut butter and jelly. Of course, she loved America and all types of food, but Antonella became completely intertwined with the Abruzzo and L'Aquila areas of Italy.  "My trip to Italy was more than the food. I was immersed with the Italian culture. I always spoke Italian and did not learn the English language until later"   Her parents were born in Italy, so they travelled to Italy every summer for 6 to 8 weeks. Antonella's mother, Michelina-Greco DiNicola was born in Mondragone, Italy, in the Province of Caserta, while her father, Gabriele DiNicola was born in Castello.  She had cousins in L'aquila, also. Antonella said that she has fond memories of her travels in Italy.   Their relatives fussed over them upon their arrival in the town.  It is the big news of the day when family and friends arrive from America. The entire town knew about it, especially since the town is so small. Everyone helped to unload the suitcases from the car. Antonella wiped the jet lag out of her eye and drank some of her limonata and ate the prosciutto sandwich that her relatives had bought at the airport. After a couple of days of relaxing, there was a knock at the door. A man grabbed the brass knocker and knocked quite a few times.  Antonella was reading a magazine and the women were busy in the kitchen, so Antonella's father answered the door.   A man asked for a contribution for the upcoming festival called "La Sagra." Of course, Americans are always more than generous with donations. After all, Italy is his roots and part of his life, so he reached into his wallet and pulled out a generous donation. The man smiled and his eyes lit up like a Christmas tree. Each time an American makes a generous donation, the people of the town are appreciative. My mother and I always donated for the feast of St. Cesidia and the Feast of San Donato. It was just the right thing to do.  We never felt like tourists, but we felt like we were truly coming home.   She had just finished eating tortellini pasta with freshly made marinara sauce. The rest of the family was enjoying fresh fruit from the market. Antonella was too excited to sit at table and eat the fruit.  Antonella combed her hair and unfolded a few of her summer outfits. She noticed the commotion of the town.  Some of the men were carrying a large mattress up the street and were heading to the fields.  A woman shouted in Italian from a window across the street, "here is the mattress."  A few children were pointing and staring at the mattress and they smiled.  It was not just an ordinary mattress. It was THE mattress. The town had a festival called "La Sagra."  Each year they would bring a large, old mattress to the middle of a large field and would strip the mattress. The only thing that would be left of the mattress were the wiring and the springs.  They would flip it over ,place wood and charcoal on the metal springs, and would use it as a large barbecue grill. The people in town would cook angiello (lamb), chicken (pollo), bistecca (steak) and would prepare those pieces of heaven called Bruschetta, which is chopped tomatoes with garlic and olive oil on top of Italian bread.    She walked around and stopped suddenly when she noticed  a traditional game that they played. Antonella said, "a person had to throw a rock and try to crack an egg. Whoever broke the egg would win a rooster." This was an important event to begin "La Sagra". The festival was enjoyed by the town of Castelo, Piedicolle, and Capitignano.   They were all small towns just a few miles apart.   Antonella remembers going to Capitignano to watch the Festa Di La Madonna."   Religious processions are engraved in our memories.  It is a common topic that comes up in many of my stories. Everyone from the age of 21 to 90 remembers these traditional events. Men were wearing their best white shirts and shoes, while the elderly women walked arm in arm with their children or husbands. The men lifted the statue of La Madonna and walked through the streets. They carried it even with the heat of the sun beating on their faces. The church bells rang and the beautiful church music echoed throughout the town. Religious ceremonies are at the heart of the celebrations and festivals all over Italy.  I remember the people of San Donato Val Di Comino carrying the St. Donato statue during the month of August.  We often pinned money on the statue and followed the large procession. A band or local people would sing beautiful religious songs.  I was able to relate to Antonella's appreciation of this type of celebration. Antonella had rolled up a blanket for the firework display.  The fireworks are a big deal in Italy, and the beauty of the cascades of color in the sky stole her heart.  She layed the blanket out on the field with her family and friends and they all stared up at the sky. They had filled their stomach with the delicious barbecued foods and the sounds of the accordion player. Such simple times, yet such precious and meaningful memories. The best part of the festivals in Italy are the roasted nuts.  Antonella reached over for that wax paper bag filled with delicious, roasted peanuts.   I remember the chilly, mountain air during the summer.   We would sweat all day, but at night the cool air invaded the town of San Donato Val Di Comino. The hot bag of roasted peanuts warmed my hands!   Antonella and her family smelled the barbecue foods which began at 3pm and the eating continued until 1 am in the morning!  Men and women walked arm in arm to the field and sometimes they would pack several people into a compact car to make their way to the field.  Even the dogs and cats were walking towards the field hoping for some left overs. A man put on his hat and rolled up his sleeves as he lifted a  sturdy, cardboard box. The cardboard box was going to be his stage.   It was a man with his accordion and a cardboard box.   The man stood on that cardboard box and played his accordion all day and all night.  Men and women twirled each other around as they listened to the traditional accordion songs. Young children and teenagers danced to the music, too!   This celebration brought so much joy to the people of the town.     Antonella smiled as she looked up at the sky. She really did not miss the states as she was engulfed in the beauty of the fireworks.  Besides, the grill made out of the mattress springs was the best grill in the world!  As she fell asleep that night, she realized that she was fortunate to have such a loving family and to be spending her summer in a small town with a huge heart of goal.  She did not need a four star hotel or a fancy poolside party.  She was similar to me and the way I view Italy. It is the scent of the lamb on the large grill, the laughter, sounds of the accordion player, and the way the men, women and children danced in the fields.    The next day, Antonella spent the afternoon with her friends and cousins. The enjoyed chatting, eating chocolate gelato and patatine, or potato chips. She got a great tan walking through the small town and as she sat on a wall talking with her friends. The hot weather did not wear her out. All she needed was an aranciate, a gelato, and  a piece of Kinder chocolate to get her through the day. She started to talk to a young man her age. He was wearing an Italia soccer t-shirt and white shorts.  That is the usual style of the young men in Italy.  He had a motorcycle and drove past her a few times to show off his bike before he decided to pull over and talk to her.   I remember my grandfather yelling anytime a guy drove by his house with a motorcycle.  If the motorcycle was too loud as it drove past the house, he would yell, "disgraziata", or "disgrace!".  My grandfather did not like his sleep being interrupted and if I was ever caught on the back of a motorcycle, I would never hear the end of it back then.     Antonella was carefree, sporting a great tan, and chatting up a storm.  Suddenly, the sun began to set and she needed to head back home.  The young man wanted to give her a ride for a few minutes and then promised to take her home. A few minutes turned into a few hours as they enjoyed the feel of the summer air.  Antonella loved being on the back of the black leather seat of the shiny red and black motorcycle. The young man insisted she wear the helmet as they drove through the narrow and curvy roads.   He got alittle carried away and took her a few miles away, but finally, they returned to the town after midnight. It was an innocent motorcycle ride and nothing more. She loved the feel of the wind , the companionship, and the feeling of freedom as she looked over at the field when they passed by.  Once in a while they would stop at a small cafe for an aranciata and a slice of pizza. . She walked into the house and no one was smiling.  Uh oh!  That is how I always knew I was in trouble. Antonella looked around the room and her grandfather started with the familiar line, "Everyone is going to talk about it!"  Antonella asked, "what do you mean?"  Her grandfather said that she should not have been riding on the back of the motorcycle. Now everyone in town was going to talk about it. It would be the news of the town.  "But I did not do anything wrong," she answered. "It does not matter, it just does not look right and people in this town are going to gossip. A good girl does not ride on the back of a motorcycle."  Antonella's story reminded me of my own grandparents. I had to be home by 9:00pm when I was on vacation.  One night, I told my mother that I was going to stay out with my friends. Most people go out to the piazza at 9:00pm and I would always be heading home. It just did not make sense. They were worried people would "talk". My grandparents were strict and overprotective. Finally, I rebelled and stayed out until midnight.  My mother heard me walking down the street and she came to the gate. "I don't have the key to the gate and your grandfather got mad, so let me find a rope," my mother said. This was so embarassing. I had to actually climb over a rope to get over the fence because my grandfather was mad that I stayed out late, and my mother was 55 years old and was not given the key to the gate! I enjoyed a moped ride, went out for pizza and visited another town for ice cream, yet, I had to climb over a rope to get back over the fence! I bonded with Antonella as I could relate about how difficult it can be during summer vacations when it comes to arriving home late and being on the back of a moped or motorcycle.   Sometimes the topic of going to a disco would come up during my summer vacations. "No, no and no" was the answer I always got. My grandparents associated discos with drugs, drinking and bad men. They had exaggerated many things in their minds which prevented me from going to a disco.   Of course, just like any place, you had to be careful of those things, but they made it sound like the disco was coated with wall to wall drugs, which was simply not true at the time.  Antonella and her cousin wanted to go to a disco.   They put on their skirts and summer shirts, fussed with their hair and put on their lip gloss.  "Where are you going?" her father asked. "We want to go to the disco," Antonella said. "The disco! are you crazy! what do you want to go there for? There are a lot of drugs there!"  If you really want to go, you are going with me and your Uncle Ciro," her father said. Antonella rolled her eyes and said, "Daaddd, I can't believe that you and Uncle Ciro want to come to the disco.!" It was a nice gesture, but it seemed a bit awkward for a young woman to bring her dad and uncle to a disco. It was the 1990's and there they were, walking into a disco with dad and uncle Ciro. Antonella and her cousin heard the disco music song, "Last Dance" by Donna Summer playing, and the lights of the disco were flashing.  The bartender stood behind the bar and looked at Antonella and her cousin and then glanced at the door, where her father and Uncle Ciro were standing.  "Let's go. I feel silly standing here while Dad and uncle Ciro are sitting by the door." The girls walked between the crowds across the dance floor and they headed home.   I could not imagine my father standing at a disco. If he were still alive, I think he would have looked around and said, "What do you want to stay here for? this is a crazy place and what kind of music is that?"    She remembers the sad feeling in her heart on the last night of her vacation. Summer was over and it was time to head home to Connecticut. She had to be back in time for school. She packed her souvenirs, boxes of cookies and cheese into her suitcase.  The sadness lifted quickly when she realized she would be back again next year.     A few years later, around 1996, Antonella told me that she was at a crossroads in her life. She was  in her early 20's and needed to decide if she wanted to further her education, which job to pursue, and to figure out her life.  Also, her father, Gabriele ,had fallen from a roof that year while working and had suffered injuries.  It was a hard time for her not only because her father had fallen and she did not know what was in store for her for the future, but she did not have a boyfriend at the time.   That year, she decided to go to Italy by herself. She put aside the brochures from various schools and decided to take rest from figuring out her life in the states. She wanted to be in Italy to clear her head.  Although her parents were a bit worried about her travelling alone, they wanted her to be happy and to sort things out.   The sweat poured from Antonella's face as the scorching summer in Italy had risen to 100 degrees! Her aunt and uncle in Italy decided to take her on a trip to Foggia to visit the Padre Pio church.  Foggia looked dry and barren as the temperatures soared.  She pulled back her hair and wished she was in an airconditioned room.  The steam rose from the deserted streets. No one was outside as the steam took over every part of the road.  Antonella took a big gulp of her coca cola and pulled her hair back. Her feet were so sweaty  and swollen. She passed by tourist buses which were packed with tons of people who were going into the Padre Pio chapel in Foggia. She was able to see the dark caves where Padre Pio was believed to be chased by demons. As she gazed into the dark and musty cave, thoughts of her life entered her mind. She sat on the bench that was inside the cave and thought to herself, "I hope I find the answers to my life. I really want to sort out my future and find a real nice guy."She admired the tall and beautiful ceilings as she touched the walls of the church and appreciated every inch of it.  There were flowers on the floor of the Padre Pio chapel. Yellow, red, pink and white flowers were on the ground. The flowers were there for a long time and did not give off a fragrance.    All of a sudden, Antonella smelled the beautiful fragrance of the flowers.  "Che perfuma di fiori, zia" Antonella said."What a beautiful floral scent" Antonella told her aunt.  Her Aunt started to cry.  "Perche zia stai piangare?" Antonella asked, which means "why is my aunt crying?" . Her uncle handed her aunt a handkerchief and hugged her.   Antonella was confused. However, her uncle told her that the flowers in the church do not give off a fragrance. He told her that a person who smells flowers is a sign that the person will be helped. He told Antonella that since she smelled flowers, she must pray to Padre Pio and she will be helped.  Antonella's aunt was crying because she had been going to the church for years and never smelled the flowers, yet Antonella came for the first time and smelled the fragrance of flowers.    Antonella prayed in the chapel that day. She thought about young men in Italy, but they were not right for her. If she fell in love with a man in Italy, she would not be happy leaving her family in the states. She prayed about her future choices and for her father to continue to recover from his accident.  Also, she prayed to meet a young man with a similar background, someone who understands her, and to find her way in life.   The trip to Italy and the visit to the Padre Pio chapel turned Antonella's life around. She met a nice guy one year later.  Her friends got out of their car at a Dunkin Donuts in Waterbury, CT.  Her friends, Angela and Lisa were ready to order their coffee when she met Hugo Albi, who is from  Barcelona, Spain.  It was a simple night of talking and drinking coffee. Hugo's father had worked for a company in Germany and they got to know alittle about each other at Dunkin Donuts.    They went to the movies together and worked out at the gym together.   Although they had moved to Florida with Antonella's family, they all moved back to Connecticut. They loved Florida, but missed Connecticut.   All of her prayers were answered. Her father recovered and soon Antonella was married at Addona's in Prospect, CT. She wanted a place with good food, so they chose Addona's. Her husband works in the computer/IT field, while Antonella works for an electrical contracting company in Durham in the field of office administration. She had given birth to a son, but he died when he was one month old. Although there is a hole in her heart, she hopes to have another child soon. I told her to visit the Padre Pio Chapel in Bridgeport and pray for another child.   She had learned alot about life, but most of all, she  realizes the importance of family, love and religion in her life, as Padre Pio was the answer to her prayers.  She feels that it is everyone's responsibility to pass on traditions. Even if we do not like a certain type of fish during the holidays, make it for the people who do like it. Also, with all of her heart, she said it is important to keep passing on the stories to future generations.   I look forward to seeing Antonella again. The scent of a flower will remind me of her story.