My sincerest condolences to those of you who did not know my mother, Josephine Palmieri who died on March 29th. A slice of old Westport and even older Southern Italy is now gone. I literally thought I lived in Italy until I went to Kindergarten. We spoke Italian, were surrounded by relatives on Main Street, and my mom barely ever ventured off of our Little Italy. While the men were out landscaping, mom baked bread, make homemade pasta and prepared tomatoes fresh from the garden and fed the entire crew their lunch. Even though we were a fully functioning nursery since the late 1930s, we weren't allowed to have a sign up like Daybreak so most people thought we were part of them. My mom was a true entrepreneur before most women would dare. She'd make colorful attractive arrangements and bring them close to the road to lure in customers who would then fall in love with her.

Eventually her business hummed as customers were smitten with a true mom and pop establishment. They bought her original creations and bargain plants she raised herself. They had to add up their own order totals, add sales tax and make their own change from the money my mom kept in her apron. The regulars would get themselves invited into the house that was filled with everything Italian Her food and my father's wine were legendary. Everything was delicious, but I can remember once having to sit and compose myself after tasting one of her dishes. But mostly people loved my mother because my mother loved them. She didn't care who you were, what time of day it was, you knew you were family and you knew you'd come back again and again just to be near her.