Each night you’d sit up with dad and watch a film, and then you and and the other person on duty would take turns on watch. On the night of Sunday 3 May, Justin and Salv and I watched the 2012 James Bond film Skyfall (terrible) and I took first watch.

Anna found this one yesterday, from the 2012 pre-Christmas camping trip at Lake Eildon (was that the first one?). 2019’s December camp was at Barwon Heads/Ocean Grove, the sojourn at which Daniel Goldsworthy, below, mentions seeing Salv. I can see Coco and Lachlan – is it Joseph next to Coco? Who’s Salv hauling in? Felix?

Mum found this invitation to a 1930 family wedding in Kerang addressed only to ‘Mr F Caleo, Sea Lake’.

I suppose that’s George V going eye-to-eye with the kangaroo.

The Favoloros, the Lamaros, the Caleos.

The Mallee cafe Italians.

I miss our dad, who died

Not so long ago.

He left us as he lived:

Big smile, no ego.

Each day of the last 47 days of dad’s life, I drew him, most often when he was asleep.

These two were drawn on Sunday 3 May, which is five months ago today, Saturday 3 October.

Dad was quite the chronicler. As Anna has been going through his papers in his office upstairs, she’s found a few books with his notes in them, in particular a number detailing the events of his many camping/ 4WD trips. Certainly from working with him at the shop I was familiar with his lists of customer names, aides-de-memoire which he would reach for as someone walked though the front door.

The dates on sticker #2, ‘1937 – 1967’, are the bookends of his 30 years before marrying MaryAnne Hurren. The move ‘From Sea Lake to Melbourne’ obviously looms large in dad’s imagination – see his writing below’: it was a ‘big wrench’ for him, from a place that was ‘his oyster’. Which makes me think of those oysters he requested in the weeks before he died.

In this ‘Note Book’, unfortunately the ‘Society Lecture Notes’ have been literally cut out (too boring? too exciting?) as you can see from his Contents Page:

But below are the current first three pages of the book, written after speaking with Joyce, his oldest sister, in August 2010. It’s followed by MaryAnne’s typed transcript of same, in case Salv’s hieroglyphic script proves indecipherable.

And here’s mum’s transcript of those pages:

DISCUSSIONS WITH JOYCE LINEHAN 4/8/10

I asked Joyce what was the catalyst for the move

from Sea Lake to Melbourne.

She told me news that I had never heard before.

Apparently Mum had promised her brother Bob

That he could take over the cafe when

He was demobilized from the army.

I remember Uncle Bob and Aunty Mary

Coming to Sea Lake with Robert and Nola

And Helen and ‘Fang’ the dog.

It might have been early in 1947 and they lived

In the detached “sleepout” which I remember 

As being very large but maybe not.

I think I was older than those Lamaro children,

And I was very fond of Fang.

Uncle Bob was the youngest of Mum’s brothers

And a very young friendly man.

He was also my godfather along with Aunty Grace (Paino)

I think we left Sea Lake in June 1947

And it was a very big wrench for me

As I left the town that was my oyster

And the surrounding countryside that 

I roamed over very freely

To be squeezed into an inner suburb of Melbourne.

Also going from a large premises of cafe and home 

And large back yard to a tiny shop with attached double storey

Small dwelling and tiny backyard.

It wasn’t till at least 18 months later that we finally moved into 

The Strand.

Joyce says that Mum was quite distressed 

with the cramped conditions at 1033 Mount Alexander Road

I remember the workmen converting the old jeweller’s shop that was

Into a smart looking milk bar with a couple of tables and chairs

And stools at the bar.

There was a soda fountain and a very old espresso machine

That was never used to make coffee but the steam jets

Were used to make hor malted milks.

We also had loose sweet biscuits in large biscuits tins

And these were sold by the pound or half pound or quarter pound.

At Sea Lake we never owned a car but there always seemed

To be bikes and we all (except Mum and Dad) rode bikes.

I was asked to go out to the dairy once

Which was a couple of miles out of town

But I refused because I was scared.

Roma went and she had an accident

And I was severely chastised.

I remember “dinking” Peter one day and we slipped 

On the gravel and he was badly gravel rashed

And ran all the way home crying.

Just you wait till we find the photo of them at another costume party , about 30 years earlier, where they went along as Mandrake the Magician (MaryAnne with an eyeliner moustache) and Salvatore as Lothar, the swarthy brutish assistant…

Anna’s letter:

Casa Caleo

41 High St NORTHCOTE

1 June 2020

Dear family of Salvatore,

I hope you are well.

Here we are moving on into winter 2020 and our beloved dad becomes more and more physically compromised and mentally weary and extremely tired. His smile is still there, and he is (still) always happy to see us walk through the lounge room door.

Since I last wrote, dad’s ability to hold a conversation on the phone has diminished. He sleeps longer and wakes up a little more confused than before.  His final independent activity, going into the bathroom alone, has become too difficult now, and he requires our help.

The palliative care nurses are coming three days a week (Mondays, Wednesdays, and Fridays) to check on his dressings and his mobility.  They also monitor his medication and his mental state, giving us tips and information about what we need to look out for as his condition deteriorates. I do not know if the boys feel the same way, but I feel like this is probably the most important job I am ever going to do – so my concentration is intense! 

This intense concentration also makes for exhaustion, so that when your gifts of soup, biscuits, cakes, dinners, flowers, wine, music, cards with thoughtful words, emails, and text messages with the same – they really help. Thank you. We are so grateful.

In fact, if you have not done already, we would ask you to send dad a letter or a card – yes, via snail-mail! – so that we can show it to him and read it to him.  Put in a poem, or a joke, or a photo, or suggest a song. Dad would love it. It will make him smile.  And what a smile!

Love,

Anna

PS. Please forward this message onto with wider Caleo/Lamaro family as you see fit.

And Daniel’s reponse:

Dear Anna,

Mum forwarded me your wonderful email.  Thank you. I hope you don’t mind me sending this via email – rather than snail mail.  If he’s able to read it on a device, or if you can read it to him – that would be wonderful.  The other benefit is the link to a suggested song he might enjoy.  

Love

Dan

Dear Uncle Salv,

I’ve been very sorry to hear you’re unwell. I have been thinking about and asking after you often.  

It know it is unlikely I’ll get to see you again, Unlce Salv – so I hope you don’t mind me reaching out. 

When I was younger, and at St Bernard’s, I used to walk home to Nanna and Pa’s place after school once or twice a week.  

At that age, I was preoccupied, as many are I suppose, with the question of what I wanted to be when I grew up. I remember asking this of Nanna one afternoon, with one of my customary after-school rivitas with roma tomatoes, cheese and coz lettuce.

“What did you want to be when you were younger, Nanna?”

Nanna, responded by saying that, in those days, it was less common for women to go to university and study, and that her parents needed her help running the café in Sea Lake and then, after the family moved to The Strand, the various business here in Melbourne.

After further pause, I remember her saying, “…though I very much would have liked to study pharmacy, like Salv.”

This has always stuck with me. Joyce was so proud of you Uncle Salve, which I’m sure you already knew. She admired you incredibly, and loved you deeply, and would light up when speaking about you and your wonderful family.  

I do recall how excited Nanna would get knowing that there was a pre-Christmas soiree at the Caleo’s in Northcote. The hum of people and all the family and friends (young and old) in their finery. Marry-Anne certainly set the bar high. Nanna loved these days like no other. I remember Joycey always having a champagne and orange juice (I know, as I remember pouring them!). It was usually the morning, after all!  

I know mum shared the news with you that Khy and I are expecting a little baby girl in October.  I can’t wait to be a dad. We’re absolutely elated. A granddaughter for mum and dad too – and a girl to buck the trend in the Goldsworthy household.  When I spoke to Dad recently following his open heart surgery, we chatted about how lucky he was and I commented how grateful I was that he’d get to meet his granddaughter.  “People have asked what was going through my mind and how I was feeling before I went under, knowing that I might not make it through”.  He said, “I felt very calm, as the people I love know how much I love them”. I have no doubt that is true of you also, Uncle Salv.  

One of my favourite poems, that Joyce had at her home in Coughlan Street for many years, is the following Irish blessing.  

May the road rise up to meet you

May the wind be always at your back

May the sun shine warm upon your face

the rains fall soft upon your fields and until we meet again

may God hold you in the palm of His hand.

If memories serves, it was right next to the fridge sticker, “If you’re not Italian, fake it!”

In the days immediately preceding his death, Christopher Hitchens (one of my favourite authors) noted this meditation on mortality from Alan Lightman’s book Einstein’s Dreams

With infinite life comes an infinite list of relatives. Grandparents never die, nor do great-grandparents, great-aunts…and so on, back through the generations, all alive and offering advice. Sons never escape from the shadows of their fathers. Nor do daughters of their mothers. No one ever comes into his own… Such is the cost of immortality. No person is whole. No person is free.

I think it’s a wonderful perspective on mortality. I hope it offers some consolation.

I’ve been listening to this band a fair bit the last few weeks, and think you might enjoy this track.  It’s Gallipoli by Beirut.  https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=knHvi4A8v9Q  Hoping it may transport you to warm sun and sea somewhere in the Mediterranean.  It does for me. 

Uncle Salv – I will always cherish our time together, and remember your huge smile and even bigger handshakes. Seeing you earlier this year by the Barwon River, albeit briefly, camping with your family and doing what you loved is a memory I am incredibly lucky to have.  

With all my love to you, Uncle Salv.  

Always,

Daniel. 

From Anna:

Casa Caleo

41 High St

Northcote 3070

17 June 2020

Hello Family and Friends of Salvatore.

I am writing to you to let you know that dad passed away peacefully last night, Tuesday 16^th June 2020 at 8pm.  

He was, as he has been the last 3 months, surrounded by his family; and he was in his own home.  Just as he had wished.

He will lie in state here until tomorrow, when Natural Grace Funeral Directors will assist us to get dad to the Fawkner Cemetery where he will be cremated. As he wished.

We will have a private tribute to dad with the immediate family before he leaves the premises.  And we will carry him out at 1pm.

We look forward to holding a celebration of dad’s life in the future to which each and every one will be invited.

So much love and gratitude to all of you for your beautiful words for dad and your gifts of food, wine, flowers and cards.

Much respect,

Anna Caleo

And Chris’ response:

Oh Anna that is beautiful. 

When I told Salv on Saturday evening  that I was going home his response was ‘so am I’.  So your dear dad was very ready to say good bye to High Street and the family he loved so dearly.  I’m sure Salv’s farewell to 41 will be something Mary Anne, and all the Caleo clan will treasure.   

I saw the grandies  ‘tributing’ the front fence this arvo and I know Salv’s spirit will live on in all of them for as long as they live and probably longer because there is no way known that they won’t tell their own grandchildren about their grandfather Salvatore Caleo. 

Chris xxx