You were my second Mother. You were my rock. You were my teacher.
I can't get over the fact that I won't hear your laugh over the phone when you hear Connor or Andrew in the background or ever be able to hold them again. I can't get over the fact that the next time we visit, you won't be there in the kitchen, in the house you built with Pop and lived in for 55 years, making us something. I can't get over the fact that I can't just call you up and ask you how to make your fried meatballs, or your sauce, or your pasta fagioli. I can't get over the fact that you'll never try to teach me to crochet again, (even though you yelled at me and told me I wasn't doing it right!) I can't get over the fact that you'll never tell me another story about Pop and about what he did that day to get on your nerves.
You taught me what unconditional love for your family is all about. You also taught me how sacred marriage is even though it may not be exciting or romantic or even nice every single day.
You taught me what unconditional love for your family is all about. You also taught me how sacred marriage is even though it may not be exciting or romantic or even nice every single day. 
Now that I am a wife and a mother, I understand. I understand how much you loved all of us. I understand how much you pushed yourself to do everything for all of us. You were the silent presence in our house - dinner was always on the stove waiting for us when we got home from school or work, our laundry was always clean and folded, our sheets were always changed. We'd love to see your car in the driveway when we pulled up every day. Looking back now, I know we took it for granted. And to think it wasn't just our house you did this for - You went to Uncle Sam's and then finally on to your own home to take care of Pop...every single day. I don't think we understood how hard you worked for us or how this was how you knew how to show your love for us.
I know how much you suffered and I know how much you wanted to go 'home' to finally see your family in heaven but it still doesn't make it any easier.
I was so unbelievably lucky to have a MomMom like you. I miss you so much but I know you're at peace now.
Ciao Bella.
2 comments:
T,
This is really beautiful. What an amazing woman.
Steph
Tina,
I truely and honestly have tears running down my face. Your mom mom was like your second mom, and I felt your pain when she was sick and when she passed. You were very lucky to have such a wonderful woman in your life to be such an inspiration. Just because she is not here does not mean she is not with you. She will still be with you and your family every day, acknowledge her presence and always allow her to be a part of your life.
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