Blog

Gilda Morina Syverson, Author/Artist

Great memories of my own childhood memories when I met some wonderful Italian-Americans at St. Anthony's Festival in Wilmington, Delaware this past weekend. 🇮🇹🍷Saluti! ... See MoreSee Less

7 days ago

Gilda Morina Syverson, Author/Artist

I had such a marvelous time at the Unami Trail Book Club in Newark, Delaware. Thank you Janet Rzewnicki for the invitation and thank you Ann for hosting such a lively discussion. I enjoyed talking and spending the evening with all of you! Grazie tante! ... See MoreSee Less

1 week ago

Gilda Morina Syverson, Author/Artist

A little late but not forgotten was the wonderful time I had with my dear friend and colleague, Ann Campanella, at Barnes & Noble at Birkdale in Huntersville, NC back on a rainy Sunday, April 23rd, when we spoke about our time writing our memoirs and reading some excerpts. We had a lovely turn out and was delighted that we sold a number of books supporting our local Barnes & Noble. Both of our books came out on The Nook this spring. And for those who don't yet know, Ann's book is now out in audio. (see below) ... See MoreSee Less

2 months ago

Gilda Morina Syverson, Author/Artist

Dear Dad: Thank you for the gift of the memoir "My Father's Daughter." It has given me the opportunity to still be with you for the last two years since you've been gone. "...this intense feeling of sadness wells up. I don't know what to do with it."

That’s my father—the old traditionalist. When we reach the gate, Mom and Dad sit relaxed in a corner, away from the chaos of people waiting to get on flights.
Stu goes to the desk and puts us on the standby list. My usually subdued husband is now moving about, unable to stand or sit still, anxious to get on the plane. Once the engines start revving, our chances don’t look very good. In a quick nanosecond, however, they call our names. Stu rushes over.
That’s when Dad stands up and starts to pace as restlessly as Stu has been pacing. My father comes up close to hear what the status is for us getting on the flight. He’s obviously uncomfortable.
“What’s the matter, Dad?” I said. “Are you all right?
“I don’t know about these past two weeks,” he says. “I’m not used to us getting along so well.”
Just then, the attendant says that they don’t have the two seats. I stop and relax, aware of my father’s concern about our relationship taking a major shift.
“Well,” I say, “Would it make you feel better if I start a tiff with you when we come at Christmas?”
He chuckles, although I can see he’s still uncertain. My mother sits, smiling, and Stu is dancing between the desk and me. The attendant rushes over.
“Hurry, hurry,” she says, “They’re closing the doors. You can get on, after all.”
It happens so suddenly. I kiss my parents goodbye and Stu hugs them. There is no time to analyze or say anything else about what my father has just said and about how momentous the last two weeks have been for me too.
But this intense feeling of sadness about separating wells up. I don’t know what to do with it.

From My Father's Daughter, From Rome to Sicily
In loving memory of my father Nicholas Morina ... See MoreSee Less

2 months ago

Gilda Morina Syverson, Author/Artist

I'm looking forward to talking at Barnes & Noble this Sunday at Birkdale in Huntersville from 2:30 - 4:00 with Ann about how we supported each other through the writing of our memoirs and answering any questions you may have about your own writing process. We'd love to have you join us! ... See MoreSee Less

2 months ago