You better
believe it.
This is
really Elsa’s story, but it’s so hard for me to tell it detached from my own,
because Nana is so present in my life. One of the perks of being born to young
parents is the ministry of grandparents.
I had the good fortune to be born when all four of my grandparents were
alive, and three of them were only in their forties. They were active, creative, hard-working
people who really enjoyed grandchildren.
Elsa was
born to a privileged mother in an Italian village called Tolo. Her father, Biagio, whose beginnings were
more humble, wanted his children to have the American dream. And so they came to America and settled in
South Quincy and Nana grew up with 2 sisters, 3 brothers, and some Salvatore
cousins. She told us stories about her
father’s wine-making, growing up during the depression, sleeping several
children to a bed, and being excited to get an orange as a special Christmas
treat. If there was deprivation, she
didn’t express it that way. She loved
her family, growing up in Quincy, and her friends. She not only had life-long
friends, but she continued to make friends throughout her life. She had a few
different circles of friends, but one in particular, “the club girls” got
together at least once a month for nearly sixty years.
As a
teenager, she fell in love with Rocco, my grandfather, and from his mother, she
learned how to cook. Nana and Grampa
loved music and dancing, especially at family weddings, Sons of Italy events
and the Firemen’s Ball. They told a
story about how when Elsa was 16, she snuck out of the house one night without
her father’s permission to go to a jitterbug contest with Rocco. They won, but she couldn’t bring the trophy
home because that would have been evidence of the crime.
Elsa had a
beautiful smile that lit up a room; she was vivacious, fun, and good at a lot
of things. She loved to dress up, and
when she went out, she was really put together. Accessorizing was a bit of a
passion for her. Whenever I made
earrings at her house, she’d add more beads and dangly things on to whatever I started with, and she loved
them: the gaudier the better.
She was an
incredible cook, she not only baked for every holiday, but well into her
eighties, she watched cooking shows like Emeril and Rachel Ray, and she’d
challenge herself to try new recipes. Every
decade from the 1940s on was represented in cookware in her house. There are so
many memories of Nana making pizzellis,
cutlets, meatballs, sauce. And there was
always home-made soup. “Nonni soup” meant something special to Dave, Liz and
Arianna.
She could
sew, too, and knit, and crochet. Anytime
she heard of a relative getting married or having a baby, they could count on a
hand-made afghan from Auntie Elsa. That
was one kind of gift she really respected. One thing Nana was not good at was
receiving gifts. Typically, we’d give
her a gift with a receipt, because even if it was exactly what we thought she
was wishing for, she’d return it to the store.
But a hand-made gift, something that someone created with you in mind;
that’s a gift that’s made with love, something you can’t put a price tag on.
That’s one of my take-aways from growing up as Elsa’s grand-daughter. So, if Elsa made something for you, you better
believe she loved you.
And she loved
a lot of people, especially those she considered her family. If they were asked
how many kids they had, Elsa & Rocky would say, “three, Sandy, Lissa and
Mike.” She was super-protective and loyal, maybe to a fault, and she assumed a
lot of responsibility for providing for her loved ones. That meant a great deal
of cooking, sewing, networking, hand-feeding, bill-paying, and just plain
showing up. She cared - a lot, and doing
right by your family, and taking responsibility were two things she took very
seriously. She had pretty high
standards, and could be hard on herself when she didn’t think she’d done enough,
or given enough.
Nana loved
being an Italian American. And like her
father, she believed in the American dream, so the year she turned 30, she officially
became an American citizen. She had a
good run. As much as my grandfather’s
unexpected death blind-sided her, she managed to have another 20 active years
after that, even taking her first airplane ride to visit us in Salisbury,
Maryland in 1992. After flying to see us
in Virginia in 2000, she had the confidence to plan her life-long dream of
returning to Italy, this time, as an American. She went and you better believe she loved
every minute of it.
As she
became less active, and less verbal, she still had a beautiful smile. She still enjoyed staying social though, and
when it was time to move into Hancock Park, she did it with grace, anticipating
more time with Mary Cain, one of her “club girls,” who lived on the same wing.
She was OK with leaving the house, just as long as Sandy was going to be OK. Isn’t it funny how a mother doesn’t stop
being a mother? So, she made that transition easy on us, still protective of
her kids.
Not everyone
does great things. Most of us, like
Elsa, accomplish small things. But her
example, another take away for me, is that a person can do many, many small
things with great love. So, you better
believe it, Nana accomplished a great deal with great love, and a smile that
lit up any place she happened to be.
So, if they
have jitterbug contests in heaven, are Elsa and Rocco winning another
trophy? One their parents and brothers
and sisters are cheering them onto?
You better
believe it.
