Wednesday, April 8, 2020
One of the last times I spoke with Aunt Marie, she was recovering from a hip surgery. Although several years of Alzheimer’s had claimed part of her memory, part remained and she answered the phone with a concerned, “Michele, what’s going on,” addressing me as if I were the one lying in the hospital bed. Our conversation was unusually brief, but I knew she remembered me when we started talking about food – the universal language of love for all Italians. “How is the food at the hospital?” I asked. “Oh, it’s very good, “ she replied, “they cook like we used too cook.” I could tell that she was tired and ready to get off of the phone, but not before she said what she always said to me during our many years of phone calls – “I wish we weren’t so far apart, I wish we could see each other more often.” I shared her sentiment and as I hung up the phone I thought back on all of the great times we shared, many over meals at her kitchen table. We celebrated Christmas, Easter, weddings, baptisms, First Communions, confirmations, graduations, and summer vacations at the lake. We enjoyed them again when Michael and Kaelie were born plus we added a new summer tradition – blueberry picking.
Always hospitable, Aunt Marie greeted us into her home with a hug and a smile and quickly led us to the heart of her house – the kitchen. She outdid herself keeping the Italian traditions of her childhood alive, especially during the holidays. Christmas and Easter were her specialties and I was blessed to have had a first hand glimpse of the behind-the-scenes efforts of crafting the several course meals which entailed peeling, boiling, breading, deep frying and baking - pretty much at the same time. She made it all seem effortless – that was where the love came in. It was all about love and family. Those meals lasted for hours as we sat around the table eating, telling stories and laughing. As the family grew and relocated, the venue for the holidays changed, but the traditions remained and we have Aunt Marie to thank for carrying those still honored customs into our lives.
Aunt Marie has special place in my heart. She was a confidant who I knew cared deeply for me and for my family. We spent many hours on the phone keeping up to date with each other. Our phone conversations from as far back as I can remember and including my last one, ended with the same line - “I wish we could see each other more often.” Each conversation also contained a special request, which I plan to honor and that was to be there for her son who she loved so very much. I promise to be there for him, Aunt Marie, and one day we will indeed see each other more often.
