| Her grandmother was seasick for an entire month. | | | | large and still growing. |
| During the thirty-plus days it took for the ship she | | | | There were always people dropping in, or she and |
| was on to dodge other ships making war, she never | | | | her mother would go visiting, or she'd get to stay |
| left her bunk down in steerage. It was a miserable | | | | with Donna Lucia and play in her backyard with the |
| trip for her, and if it hadn't been for her family | | | | tomatoes and flowers and sunshine while her mother |
| members at the other end of the journey - well, she | | | | went shopping. And Grandma took her everywhere |
| was a strong spirit as it was, but that kept her going. | | | | with her---that's what she remembered and that's |
| She was not alone, but she might as well have been. | | | | what everyone said. To the Italian grocery store |
| When you're seasick, all you want is to be left alone. | | | | several blocks away, where the shopkeeper would |
| When she disembarked at Ellis Island, she was gaunt | | | | lift her up and let her dip her hand into the huge |
| and weak and pale. It was such a relief to finally be | | | | wooden barrel of olives to take a few fat green |
| off that boat, but it took days to get physical relief | | | | olives so she could taste the salty, slightly bitter, |
| from the feeling that she was still rocking on a boat. | | | | imported delicacy. Oh, and all the wonderful smells in |
| They took her picture there at Ellis Island, and | | | | that store! Then some days they'd go to visit with |
| whenever her oldest granddaughter looked at it | | | | Grandma's closest friends, the ones who had |
| years later, she always remembered what she'd been | | | | christened each others' children, or stood up in each |
| told about that difficult passage. It told her so much | | | | others' weddings, and so, were family. And other |
| about the possibilities for an abundant life her | | | | days they would drop in on cousins, in-laws, or |
| grandmother desired so strongly that she was willing | | | | siblings and their families. |
| to make that trip and leave everyone and everything | | | | And on Sundays, well, Sundays were the best. Big |
| familiar behind. And the gratitude and admiration | | | | dinners at their house, or her other Grandma's house, |
| welled up in her every single time. | | | | where the big, long table was filled with food and |
| This was the grandmother who shaped her life so | | | | family. And where the white ice box was crammed |
| powerfully. The one who made her feel for the rest | | | | with glass dishes of wonderful foods, and the cellar |
| of her life, "if she loved me, I must be good." The | | | | smelled like the wine that Grandpa made with his |
| deep spiritual connection was unique in her life and | | | | wine press. Loud, talking, laughing, aunts, uncles, |
| unforgettable. She had learned recently that in fact, | | | | cousins filled the house...kids playing and running |
| she had been named for this grandmother, and her | | | | around, and babies being bounced up and down, and |
| paternal grandmother as well, with Americanized | | | | handed from one pair of arms to another. |
| versions of their names. It was a sweet shock to | | | | And in the summer, sometimes they'd take the |
| find this out when her mother handed her the baby | | | | Sunday dinner to the park where they'd reserved a |
| books with entries from her birth, infancy, babyhood. | | | | pavilion for shelter in case it rained. The women had |
| And the fact of her naming stayed at the forefront | | | | made baked macaroni which they brought in large |
| of her mind for a very long time afterwards, and she | | | | covered pans, wrapped in blankets to keep the food |
| wondered why she didn't know this sooner. | | | | warm, and roasted chicken, salads, and wonderful |
| Her maternal grandmother opened her to spiritual | | | | sweet cakes and pies. And scattered along the table, |
| experiences, first with the shrine on the top of her | | | | there were clear glass bottles with the drawing of |
| dresser with the tall saint's statue and votive candles | | | | the dapper man in the top hat, full of ginger ale and |
| burning, and the handmade palm cross stuck behind | | | | orange pop and cream soda, alongside the green |
| the crucifix on the wall. Since they lived in the same | | | | glass bottles of Grandpa's homemade wine. And |
| house, she could go into Grandma's room any time | | | | loaves of crusty bread spilling crumbs. Everyone |
| and look up at the tall dresser with the shrine on top, | | | | laughed and talked, and the kids played and played |
| and feel the stillness---and she liked the feeling. And | | | | until they dropped on the blankets laid out on the |
| Grandma took her along whenever she went to | | | | grass in the shade. |
| church. She loved the fragrance of incense, the cool | | | | And they played practical jokes on one another. Like |
| darkness, the tall candles, the huge crucified, bleeding | | | | the way Grandma, during the holidays, always filled a |
| Christ, the statues in their niches. And the stained | | | | walnut shell with pepper, or stuffed a creampuff with |
| glass, the stillness of the sanctuary broken only by | | | | cotton instead of cream and make sure it was |
| sibilant whispered prayers and the soft clicking of | | | | positioned on the table in front of the uncle who |
| rosary beads sliding through fingers. When the Mass | | | | would love the joke more than anyone in the |
| started, the voice of the priest, praying and chanting | | | | world---year after year after year. And they all |
| in Latin lulled and soothed her. She loved it, loved the | | | | laughed just as hard every time the joke was played, |
| way it filled all of her senses and her heart and soul, | | | | and Uncle acted as if this had never happened to him |
| and she loves it still. | | | | before. Then they would clear the dining room table |
| After Grandma died, when she was four and a half, | | | | and play cards for hours, laughing and arguing and |
| she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt which cloud | | | | having fun. |
| Grandma was sitting on every single day, watching | | | | When she got tired of hovering around the card |
| over her. And she had conversations with Grandma | | | | players, she would go into the living room, lay down |
| up on that cloud every day for a very long time. Her | | | | on the couch and drift off to sleep to the sweetest |
| mother seemed different to her after Grandma died, | | | | sounds in the world...the sounds of them talking, |
| like someone changed to her core, by life. | | | | laughing, just being there, filling the entire house with |
| Her mother was only twenty-eight years old, and the | | | | their presence. This was one of her greatest |
| death was shockingly unexpected. This larger-than-life | | | | remembered pleasures when she herself was an |
| Grandma was beloved by all who knew her. Many in | | | | adult, and understood what it meant that she had |
| the Sicilian immigrant community came to her as the | | | | gotten to experience this in her childhood. Then later |
| folk healer who knew herbs and remedies, as well as | | | | she'd get picked up by her father and carried to bed, |
| a woman with a good head on her shoulders, and by | | | | or to the velvety back seat of their big blue car for |
| all accounts, way ahead of her time. The | | | | the trip home to her own bed. |
| Italian-American doctor even called on her to assist | | | | The feeling of connection, of family, was so strong |
| him in his 'kitchen table' surgeries. She was a soft, yet | | | | and such a firm foundation. This was her reality, her |
| strong and powerful woman. And she left far too | | | | life, and to her it felt like paradise. Loving and being |
| soon for those who loved her and remembered her | | | | loved by so many people. Such richness, such a |
| and reminisced about her for decades to come. | | | | sense of belonging and warmth and goodness and |
| It took her granddaughter years and years, and lot | | | | laughter. It was something gracefully taken for |
| of tears, and countless counseling sessions to be able | | | | granted that defined her life. And it remained the |
| to speak of her without the tears welling up, finally | | | | same until Grandma died and they moved a short |
| able to claim the love and the connection and the | | | | time later to a city ninety miles away. But, as her |
| powerful memories without the grief. Whenever she | | | | mother said, they could just as well have been on |
| thought of her now, she recalled the laughter, the | | | | the moon for the changes that the move created. |
| light around her, the broad smile, the joy, the | | | | For a long time after they moved, no one dropped in |
| happiness, the security--and the food! | | | | and they visited no one and her mother was quiet |
| Snails in tomato sauce, she'd drink the sauce from | | | | and sad. She started Kindergarten and made new |
| the snail shell, but refuse to eat the snail. Red | | | | best friends and had fun and liked their new home |
| cinnamon candies and chocolate nonpareils brought | | | | with the lady next door who had a piano and |
| from the candy store in white paper bags and put in | | | | granddaughters. And they'd drive the ninety miles on |
| the pantry until it was time to enjoy them together | | | | Sundays to visit the family, but it wasn't the same, |
| as a family after dinner. Macaroni of all shapes and | | | | not really. |
| sizes, meatballs, sausage flavored with garlic and | | | | And although it was never the same again, those |
| fennel, and spareribs in the sauce that simmered all | | | | early experiences shaped her life and her beliefs |
| day. She'd ask a grown-up to dip a crusty piece of | | | | powerfully and sweetly, so that she always expected |
| bread into the sauce for her long before it was | | | | to be connected, to belong, to be loved, to |
| dinner time. That was a treat everyone in the house | | | | experience true closeness, to laugh with friends, to |
| enjoyed on "sauce" days. | | | | enjoy life. She always looked for, created, and found, |
| Then there were cannolis and creampuffs for special | | | | the warmth and richness of those early days. It |
| occasions. Warm sfingi with honey drizzled over them | | | | established for her a strong desire for that kind of |
| on St. Joseph's Day. Cuccia made from cooked | | | | family experience. And later on in her life, her friends |
| wheat berries on the feast of Santa Lucia. Lightly | | | | hugged her and thanked her for including them in her |
| frosted cookies with a rich fig, date, raisin and nut | | | | own family gatherings that have the same flavor and |
| filling at Christmas. Bread in the shape of a doll at | | | | sweetness as those early days. |
| Easter. Thick, chewy Sicilian pizza in a big rectangular | | | | We really do carry with us the vibrations of the past, |
| pan, with tiny salty pieces of anchovy dimpling the | | | | and marvelously, we get to choose the ones we |
| dough. The bubbles in the glass of ginger ale in Zia | | | | want to carry, continue to experience and share. |
| Caluzza's palsied hand dancing in the light from the | | | | What she experienced was not perfect, things |
| kitchen window. The same kitchen window where | | | | sometimes happened that weren't happy, as they do |
| the four-year old watched and waited for so long for | | | | in any life, but she chooses to remember the things |
| Grandma to return after she died. | | | | that made her then, and still make her, the happiest. |
| The soft yellow light glowed in the living room after | | | | And you can do the same. |
| dinner when she'd sit on Grandpa's lap in the easy | | | | Sift through your memories and choose thoughtfully, |
| chair, and he'd make her smile and giggle with stories | | | | hold the thought, the vision, the vibration of your |
| about the characters from their village in the Old | | | | happiest moments and you will become a magnet |
| Country. Stories about the man who'd go from house | | | | that attracts more of the same. |
| to house at dinnertime, pleading hunger, and how | | | | Those happy moments usually exist in our memories |
| they'd all feed him, one family after the other, even | | | | as snapshots rather than videos, so search your |
| though they knew he did this every night. And the | | | | memory bank for the snapshots that capture your |
| silly man who was told to "tira la porta" -- "pull the | | | | richest experiences, your peak moments, and |
| door", and did. He pulled it and took it with him! The | | | | treasure them, revisit them, feel the feelings again. |
| stories were funny to her every time she heard | | | | Then ask the Universe for more experiences just like |
| them. She listened to Grandpa's voice telling her the | | | | them. And if you have actual snapshots of those |
| stories as she heard in the background the muffled | | | | moments, put them up where you can see them |
| sounds of her mother and father and grandmother in | | | | often. |
| the kitchen, talking and laughing. | | | | And if, for some reason, you can't find a really happy |
| And there were the visits. The extended family was | | | | memory right now, don't worry---make one up for |
| large, made up of those who had come from the Old | | | | yourself out of the wishes of what you've always |
| Country first, and saved and sent money for the | | | | longed for. To the subconscious mind, and to the |
| others who wanted to come. Her paternal | | | | Universe, it makes no difference at all whether the |
| grandfather alone, had worked hard, saved money | | | | memory is real or imagined. It creates the very same |
| and brought over a lot of family members. And now | | | | brain chemistry that floods and saturates every cell in |
| there were the children and grandchildren of those | | | | your body, and gives exactly the right message to |
| brave souls who came here knowing they'd never | | | | the co-creating Universe just the same. |
| see the ones they left behind again. The family was | | | | |