today i attended Nina's funeral...Nina being Popi's wife for 50 yrs, Popi i met in 86 he as my employer but over the years our relationship became more father and daughter...I'd met Nina several times, she'd always give us space because she knew we were bonded...so i dressed in the traditional black attire, skirt, stockings and boots and then decided on a bright pink sweater..cause i knew it was Nina's favorite color...Popi loved his wife, he called her Bella Luna, because he met Nina when she was 18 yrs old, she didn't speak any english, "right off the boat from Italy" he'd say.. Popi was the milk man in the days when we got our milk that way...and he met her on his route...he always says it was love at first sight, he knew the moment he saw her.....the services were at a catholic church...beautiful really in its ceremony..Nina has 4 children, Rosemary is the youngest and has 4 children of her own...Isabella is her youngest and not quite 2. I was observing Isabella sitting in front of me...unaware of the event, happy to play with the buckle on her shoe...Rosemary was loosing it in the pew ahead of Isabella, tears were flowing in grief...Isabella looked up at her mother and i think she knew something was wrong..she immediately started to fuss...an elder relative picked her up and started to carry her out...but Isabella shrieked for her mother, raising her arms out to her...Rosemary turned and saw her baby and motioned for the woman to return...she lifted Isabella into her arms..and i saw Isabella smile and place her tiny chereb hand upon her mothers cheek...Rosemary hugged that baby with such love and compassion then buried her tears in her hair...in that precious moment..i saw her grieving despair..overcome with the love of that new small life.. a blending of sorrow and death...a blending of hope and life....and tears rolled down my cheeks....this would be a moment i will savor forever in my heart...and i said my prayers for Nina's soul ..
Thought it's in the past 2003, It fits in with this MOther's Day. Mother's do care for their children well, even at funerals. Like the fact that you wore her favorite color a pink sweater. Really a great tribute to her. I enjoyed this write and just found you on the den.
A beautiful story, read by me - only because you had complimented one of my works. What a wonderful small world of love and emotion! Your words here kindled fires within memories long gone. At a comfortable and healthy, 86, I anjoy wirting and reading at AD. Am sure that most of your readers are women, but I trust that will change, as men allow emotions to go where they need to flow. Am tracking you for a while. Don't disappoint me, please.
- Bill
Debb- I stumbled on this and so early too- but, I had to say- this is Wonderful- I thorughly enjoyed every word. Did this really happen? Did you feel all this sitting on the bench-pew-? Were those people there or did you feel for someone close and it appeared out of your head somewhere???? don't answer I don't believe it's meant for me - any of us- to know...... It makes you wonder- and CARE more! for someone you know little of- WRiting takes on that form- You feel and you write- This talent came through here- I am keeping this...... YOU have a heart of a gold-
and... I peeked in your Bio- and you looked like a bundle of dynomite- Energy to sustain your every wanting and and Fun to be around... I bet I'm close-
Enjoy! YOur day- You just made mine, I have this slumber kind of feeling in me now... it's a good thing, it's a concern and love feeling.... Thank you~ Warmly,Sheeeox
Oh Debby, I am so glad you wrote to tell me of this write...it is so true, the babes remind us of the cycle and soften the sorrow with the promise of their lives and with their love. This was beautiful.
A passionate and poignant memoir written by a woman whose life has been guided by the words: "I am here to learn how to love well." The book is a deep examination of relationships, family, motivation, and honoring of the Self.
Rosetta was born in 1909 as the youngest of ten children. The family had more laughter than money and neighbors would knock on their door to ask, "Can we come in and laugh, too?"
