Sunday, February 22, 2004
Daughter, your family is your life. Enjoy them, stand behind them, live them. They are your life.
It was a cold winter morning. The big oak tree stood proud and naked upon the hill silhouetting the curious winter sky. It's leafless branches itched and carved a print into those white clouds that meant more cold weather and with cold weather there is snow. No more snow was needed this winter as fire wood was running low and money for food and oil was at a minimal. The cold room had very little fruit and the meat and dried fish were near there end. No nuts in the barrel and Joe, Neil and the boys were out of work or off to the War. Times were tough but the family was together enjoying each others company and proud.
Mama and Nona sat at the kitchen table looking out the window. The rest of the family retired to the living room after Sunday dinner. It is cold. The wood stove has been burning fiercely and the smell of sauce permeates the room as the kettle begins to sing.
Noona gets up from her chair with a heavy gait and gentle graceful manner and reaches for the tea cups and saucers. Mama helps by taking the silverware out of the heavy wooden drawer and brings a small plate of hard biscuit toast to the table. Both settle down to enjoy the heat from the cooling kitchen oven and the fire from the living room. Nona looks down while stirring her tea and slowly brings her head up and with that special look and stare says, "You are a good daughter. You well make someone very happy some day. Always remember daughter to make your family come first in your world. Enjoy them, stand behind them, live them. They are your life."
That was such a meaningful moment during Mama's life on that cold overcast Sunday in late February. Mama could always see Nona's look and her serious yet pleasant stare. Those words at that kitchen table during those few moments became mamas imprint for life. Nona and Grandpa knew the meaning of family. They had sixteen children. They dreamed of coming to American from Italy. Their dream became reality and their quest for happiness and unconditional love for their family became stronger and stronger with the help of togetherness and the inspiration and hope that comes surprisingly from hard times. Nothing would get in their way for love of family. Nothing. So life continued that cold winter with little firewood, few fruits, not many nuts, no dried fish and very little meat in the cold room but plenty of love and family in the kitchen and by the fire.
Mama and Nona sat at the kitchen table looking out the window. The rest of the family retired to the living room after Sunday dinner. It is cold. The wood stove has been burning fiercely and the smell of sauce permeates the room as the kettle begins to sing.
Noona gets up from her chair with a heavy gait and gentle graceful manner and reaches for the tea cups and saucers. Mama helps by taking the silverware out of the heavy wooden drawer and brings a small plate of hard biscuit toast to the table. Both settle down to enjoy the heat from the cooling kitchen oven and the fire from the living room. Nona looks down while stirring her tea and slowly brings her head up and with that special look and stare says, "You are a good daughter. You well make someone very happy some day. Always remember daughter to make your family come first in your world. Enjoy them, stand behind them, live them. They are your life."
That was such a meaningful moment during Mama's life on that cold overcast Sunday in late February. Mama could always see Nona's look and her serious yet pleasant stare. Those words at that kitchen table during those few moments became mamas imprint for life. Nona and Grandpa knew the meaning of family. They had sixteen children. They dreamed of coming to American from Italy. Their dream became reality and their quest for happiness and unconditional love for their family became stronger and stronger with the help of togetherness and the inspiration and hope that comes surprisingly from hard times. Nothing would get in their way for love of family. Nothing. So life continued that cold winter with little firewood, few fruits, not many nuts, no dried fish and very little meat in the cold room but plenty of love and family in the kitchen and by the fire.
