My grandmother, whom I lovingly referred to as "The Sicilian Lady" died on Saturday, June 27, only 29 days short of her 98th birthday.
She was born in a small hilltop town in Central Sicily in 1911. My great-grandparents brought her to America when she was only a month old. She was raised in LeRoy, NY, and was followed by six other brothers and and a sister.
She married my grandfather, a Sicilian immigrant, himself, in 1927 at age 16. They had four children, one of whom was my father. They resided in Rochester, where my grandfather, after a bad back injury, opened a grocery store.
She saw so much in her lifetime, two world wars, The Great Depression, all of the amazing technological innovations of the 20th century, and man walking on the moon.
She was a deeply religious Roman Catholic, who said three Holy Rosaries daily, and attended mass each week. She was a talented cook and baker, and was excellent at crocheting.
I was her fifth grandchild out of twelve. In the early years, I was closer to my grandfather (her husband). I adored him. I felt that Grandma was more interested in the first four grandchildren, whom were from her favored and only daughter.
After my grandfather passed away in 1982, my relationship with Grandma changed. I became the grandchild who was always there to take her to doctor appointments, to her hairdresser appointments, and grocery shopping. Whenever she needed a ride somewhere, I was the one she called. I kept her checkbook in balance, and kept track of her bank accounts for her.
When my first boyfriend, Vincent, died, Grandma was the one to tell me that she knew Vincent and I were lovers because I was grieving for him, the way she grieved for my grandfather (I never had to tell her I was gay, she just knew it and accepted it). She was very fond of Dave, my second love, too.
In 1996, my aunt and uncle moved in with her, and assumed all responsibility for her needs. I still visited her often, and called her daily. She began to show signs of old age dementia in 2002. Her world began to grow smaller from there. In January of this year, my aunt, now a widow herself, and in poor health, could no longer care for Grandma. So she was placed in a very well researched nursing home.
The dementia continued to erode her. I visited her 5 times each week. Sometimes she knew me, and other times... I was last with her on Friday evening. She smiled and said "I'm so glad to see you." We talked about different things that evening, and at times, she wasn't making much sense. I attributed it to the dementia. Before I left, we said prayers together, and I kissed her and told her that I loved her. She would often respond in kind. That was the last I saw of her alive. I was with my father when he received the call that she passed away.
Grandma, before the dementia, was a vibrant, feisty lady. If ever there was a real life "Sophia Petrillo" it was Grandma. She was fiercely independent, outspoken, and wasn't afraid to speak to people. There were no such things as strangers to her. She could work a room of people, and be friends with all of them in due course. She used to go out with her friends (two of whom she had known over 60 years), go walking with another elderly neighbor, and still find time to entertain her grandchildren and great granchildren by cooking for them.
She was an amazing lady. I will miss her....
She was born in a small hilltop town in Central Sicily in 1911. My great-grandparents brought her to America when she was only a month old. She was raised in LeRoy, NY, and was followed by six other brothers and and a sister.
She married my grandfather, a Sicilian immigrant, himself, in 1927 at age 16. They had four children, one of whom was my father. They resided in Rochester, where my grandfather, after a bad back injury, opened a grocery store.
She saw so much in her lifetime, two world wars, The Great Depression, all of the amazing technological innovations of the 20th century, and man walking on the moon.
She was a deeply religious Roman Catholic, who said three Holy Rosaries daily, and attended mass each week. She was a talented cook and baker, and was excellent at crocheting.
I was her fifth grandchild out of twelve. In the early years, I was closer to my grandfather (her husband). I adored him. I felt that Grandma was more interested in the first four grandchildren, whom were from her favored and only daughter.
After my grandfather passed away in 1982, my relationship with Grandma changed. I became the grandchild who was always there to take her to doctor appointments, to her hairdresser appointments, and grocery shopping. Whenever she needed a ride somewhere, I was the one she called. I kept her checkbook in balance, and kept track of her bank accounts for her.
When my first boyfriend, Vincent, died, Grandma was the one to tell me that she knew Vincent and I were lovers because I was grieving for him, the way she grieved for my grandfather (I never had to tell her I was gay, she just knew it and accepted it). She was very fond of Dave, my second love, too.
In 1996, my aunt and uncle moved in with her, and assumed all responsibility for her needs. I still visited her often, and called her daily. She began to show signs of old age dementia in 2002. Her world began to grow smaller from there. In January of this year, my aunt, now a widow herself, and in poor health, could no longer care for Grandma. So she was placed in a very well researched nursing home.
The dementia continued to erode her. I visited her 5 times each week. Sometimes she knew me, and other times... I was last with her on Friday evening. She smiled and said "I'm so glad to see you." We talked about different things that evening, and at times, she wasn't making much sense. I attributed it to the dementia. Before I left, we said prayers together, and I kissed her and told her that I loved her. She would often respond in kind. That was the last I saw of her alive. I was with my father when he received the call that she passed away.
Grandma, before the dementia, was a vibrant, feisty lady. If ever there was a real life "Sophia Petrillo" it was Grandma. She was fiercely independent, outspoken, and wasn't afraid to speak to people. There were no such things as strangers to her. She could work a room of people, and be friends with all of them in due course. She used to go out with her friends (two of whom she had known over 60 years), go walking with another elderly neighbor, and still find time to entertain her grandchildren and great granchildren by cooking for them.
She was an amazing lady. I will miss her....