On July 15, 1978, Nonna lay in bed after her stroke; her face was a collage of exhaustion; she was ready to die. I could see it in her face. I held Nonna''s hand, and I thought of Anne Murray''s song, You Needed Me and I knew there was a need of Nonna in my life. Nonna gave me strength and hope. Seeing Nonna suffering made me suspicious of the meaning of life. Is this the way life was supposed to end?
One of my first memories was at three years old. It was when Nonna taught me poems; counting and reciting in Italian and English. However repetitive these lessons, I knew these lessons were beneficial, because as I later would learn, these poetic exercises would cultivate my love of poetry as an adult.
Another cherished memory of my relationship with Nonna was coming home from college. Nonna I knew I loved lentils and split pea stew. Nonna prepared this favorite food with an intensity that Julia Childs cooked for her television audience every week. This meal not only was pleasing to one''s taste buds, it definitely relaxed me after a hectic week of studying. But I remembered discussing topics, such as faith, religion, history, and family ethics with my grandmother. Nonna had an an intelligence that would amaze many of my college professors. She was a woman who viewed life as a challenge and an opportunity. Even if Nonna only had a fourth grade education; her wisdom confirmed for me that life must be lived to its full potential. She firmly believed if you wanted something bad enough, one should go for it. I heard the voice of Nonna say, "Don''t waste time finding yourself, a miracle happens when you have a job working, and you learn from other people." I interpreted this as, "Being in relationship with other people helps us to develop who we become."
The third recollection of cherished memories of Nonna is sitting at a table with a kerosene lamp during a severe thunderstorm with my two siblings, Robert and Joann, and when the storm caused a blackout, the kerosene lamp seemed to bring a serene atmosphere of quietness for the three of us. Nonna knew these stories would make her grandchildren forget the turbulence of the weather, and she was correct as usual. Nonna would tell us tales of her childhood in Italy. Her childhood seemed so real, like I was experiencing dejavu. I began to understand the conviction that was evolving about growing pains being universal., regardless, of the generation.
As Nonna was resting in bed, I began to ponder happy memories of me being encouraged in prayer. For example: Nonna always prayed to St. Joseph that he would intercede for her to God to protect her grandchildren. Her devout faith in her religion inspired me to begin a search to know God. As I peered at Nonna lying powerless in bed, I squeezed Nonna''s hand tighter, and I recalled memories of how she, a young adult in 1919 came to America to start a new life. Nonna admitted there was frightened exasperation of starting a new life, because she was scared of learning a new language, and tried to fit in with a different culture of peoples. Could she adjust to this new lifestyle? It seems to me, Nonna did well in adjusting to American life. Her prayers to St. Joseph gave her strength to begin. Even as Nonna appeared apologetic in bed because of this illness; I needed to remember a young woman of nineteen years old braving life in a new country away from a family she loved.
I was beginning to realize growing older is a process, and it need not be feared. Because of Nonna, I truly believed life is a journey, in which there is much travel, and we can never escape living. If we face the trials of life, we will have gained wisdom. I understood from Nonna; wisdom comes at any age, if we will choose to learn from our mistakes, and not repeat them over and over. Nonna''s legacy to me was, "don''t be afraid to risk living, it is only when we attempt to travel in the journey of life, we are beginning to learn courage." She also taught me to gamble in love. She constantly conveyed to me, "If you have never lost in love, you will never know what love is once you finally find it." I wrote a poem in which I will dedicate to Nonna:
"The Journey of Life bring blisters, but in the walking, we can find support, if we seek true friendship."