“I know for certain that we never lose the people we love, even to death. They continue to participate in every act, thought and decision we make. Their love leaves an indelible imprint in our memories. We find comfort in knowing that our lives have been enriched by having shared their love.”
—Leo Buscaglia
My mom died on Mother’s Day May 12, 2013, at the age of 88. She was born in Roccalumera, Messina, in Sicily, which at the time was a poor fishing village. She arrived in the United States in 1947. She married my dad and had three sons and one daughter. I was the eldest child born in 1950. She was devoted to her family and loved her grandchildren. She worked hard as a seamstress for a local coat factory in Hoboken, NJ. I used to help her sew hook enclosures for fur collars on women’s coats when she got permission from her boss to work from home.
She was a beautiful woman, and when she smiled she lit up the room. She had a wicked sense of humor, was well liked, and was always hospitable to my childhood friends. She was also devoted to helping our grandparents and her siblings in the old country by regularly sending them clothing, gifts, and financial assistance whenever she could. She taught us to be proud of our heritage, wanted us to have the education that she never had. I have her to thank for introducing me to my late mentor, Dr. Carmine Sippo, a dean at Wagner College in Staten Island, NY whom she grew up with in Sicily and paved the way for me to become a podiatric physician and surgeon. When I was young, and later when I achieved success in my professional career, Cecile and I, would invite my mother to join us and Michelle and Jason to Sicily to see the family who lived a block from the Mediterranean Sea. They welcomed us with open arms that left us with unforgettable memories.
Let’s hear it for all the moms (or mom-like life guides) near and far, still with us and those who have passed on:
Your mother is always with you.
She’s the whisper of the leaves as you walk down the street,
She's the smell of certain foods you remember, flowers you pick,
The fragrance of life itself.
She’s the cool hand on your brow when you’re not feeling well,
She’s your breath in the air on a cold winter’s day.
She is the sound of the rain that lulls you to sleep, the colors of the rainbow,
She lives inside your laughter, the place you came from, your first home…
She’s the map you follow with every step you take.
She’s your first love, your first friend…
Nothing on earth can separate you. Not time, not space…not even death.
—Author Unknown
A special Mother’s Day to our dearest daughter Michelle, my love, Cecile, and Cecile’s beloved late mother Marge Weiner
