Remembering my mom on Mother’s Day!

When Sonny Bono, the actor turned politician, died, his ex-wife, Cher, eulogized him. She referred to a section of Reader’s Digest entitled “Unforgettable Characters,” mentioning that Sonny was for a most unforgettable character. Well, I’d have to say that my mother would definitely be my pick for an incredibly unforgettable character. There are so many reasons why she qualifies in my mind, and here are a few!

I loved her stories , especially the ones of her growing up in Italy. My mother was always “spiritosa,” or lively which caused her pleasure to be sure, but a fair amount of pain, too! She was always disciplined when she went to school for talking too much, and had a hard time paying attention. She was also disciplined by her father for various and sundry reasons. First of all, she loved to dance, but there were, at this time, many rules and regulations concerning when and how you were to dance! My mother couldn’t be bothered; she just wanted to dance! On several occasions she stayed behind at a local festa to dance. Of course, when she returned home later than her siblings, she was met by a very displeased father. On one occasion she even slipped out the window after everyone had gone to bed, but again, she was discovered, and disciplined!!! It was always somewhat ironic to me that she knew she would be corporally punished, and yet, she continued with these painful escapades! Her response was always that, yes, she knew she would “ get it,” but it was well worth it! She ended these stories sadly by saying that she believed that she was being punished because she had three children, and not one of us ever cared about dancing! 😂

Then there were the stories about living through World War II. She told tales of finding cover when occasional bombs would fall near the field where she and her family were working. She always told the story with fear to be sure, but also with a fair amount of innocent fascination. She also told of hiding, feeding, and caring for a young German soldier who had defected, until it was safe for him to leave. On another occasion a troop of German soldiers were en route to her village, and with them came horrific accounts of violence, waged on women. My mother saw them approaching and quickly rubbed soot from the fire all over herself and her younger sister, including their teeth, making themselves look very undesirable. She then picked up her baby brother and pricked him with a pin, causing him to cry. The ploy worked and they eventually left!

I think my favorite story was the one she told every year about the day I was born, and she would tell it in great detail which included being alone the whole night before, my brother being sick, and having my sister go out to the well in the dark for water which she boiled while awaiting her mother and the midwife. She was in painful labor the entire night and delivered me quickly, or as she put it, “I fell out!” And, of course, she always insisted that I weighed a whopping 6 kilos (about 12 or so pounds 🤷🏻‍♀️🤦🏻‍♀️). This we always argued about, since I was convinced that she had made a gross error! In any case, after the telling of the story, it was mutually agreed that the birthday presents should go to her, not me!

When I think of my mother, I think mostly of her courage. There were so many examples of it. She left her family in Italy, and the life she knew to travel with three small children on a ship for two weeks, and then on a train across the US to California to be reunited with my father. And, I was always amazed at how not knowing English never presented itself as an obstacle. As a matter of fact my mother could communicate with just about anyone regardless of the language!! 😂 She and my father succeeded in making a good life for themselves and for us with so little!

Her courage was quite evident as she battled colon cancer. I know she must have felt fear, but she was so straight forward about dealing with it that there was more laughter than tears. I loved the bimonthly treks to UCSF for her first rounds of chemotherapy. She was an immediate hit with the doctors and the nurses for whom she brought gifts! I will always appreciate these special times, for we talked so much going to and from the hospital as well as during her treatments.

One round of chemo did yield the typical, unpleasant results, such as hair loss. My mother was more fascinated than afraid! As a matter of fact, when her hair was falling out, she loved to show everyone just how easily it came out by pulling handfuls of it out for all to see. Then, when she was completely bald, she was simply amazed! When she showed me, we had a good laugh as I told her how much she looked like her hairless father, (only prettier!) 😂When her hair grew back, she was overjoyed again, because, finally, she had curly hair! 🥰

My mother was an artist. Boy, could she cook! As a matter of fact, my mother’s favorite questions were: 1) Have you eaten? 2) What would like to eat? 3) When are you going to eat? 4) Have you eaten enough? She enjoyed creating incredible meals as well as eating them! I really miss her detailed description of what she ate at some get together she attended! She’d always remember what she ate, if not who was there, and what else she did! 😂 And, anytime I visited, I was always loaded up with supplies and food for a few weeks! 🥰

She also enjoyed knitting, crocheting, creating her infamous Christmas mailboxes and her frogs in which she would insert a Hershey’s kiss, and a note that said, “Squeeze my cheek, and I’ll give you a kiss.” She always had a large supply of these and gave them to whomever she came into contact with!

I still miss our late night chats which would sometimes last for hours! My mother would make a batch of her famous Manhattans and we would sip and snack as we exchanged stories! When my father was alive he would bang against the wall, and we’d both cringe, all the while laughing, because we realized that it was quite late!! Giggling we’d make it bed! 😂

My mother was not a touchy feely kind of mom! And, as in any mother- daughter relationship, we did not always get along. But the legacy that my mom left behind is how she lived her life: with courage, grace, compassion, perseverance, and humor. I know that my mother would finally have agreed with St. Paul when he said , “The time has come for me to be gone. I have fought the good fight to the end. I have run the race to the finish. I have kept the faith.” My mother touched many lives, and helped so many through her diverse community commitments that they often referred to her as angel on earth. I find great comfort knowing that she is definitely an angel in heaven.

There is not one day that goes by that I do not think of her, that I do not wish that I could sit once again with her over a Manhattan and listen to her rich stories. As I get older and my children get over I find that I have more in common with her, and that I have a strong longing to have her on earth “ to talk.” This being the impossibility that it is, on Mother’s Day, I revel in remembering the essence of her and know that she is by my side whenever I need her!