I am a middle class mom of three. I have been married for 26 years to a wonderful man. I struggle everyday at the age of 47 to get by in life. I have finally learned that we are all here for a short time. I have met incredible people along the way that I will treasure forever.
My story is no different than so many out there. I have seen so much in my lifetime that I do not care to remember.
When I was 26 years old, my first major tragedy happened. My dad, who was only 50 years old died the day after Christmas of a massive heart attack. He died in his garage. I still to this day remember the heartache I felt. It was a nightmare. He was the world to my mom and his three daughters. A kind soul with a heart of gold. He came from little means, but worked hard to provide for his family. He loved to laugh and loved the simple pleasures in life. Fishing, fixing up his home, back yard BBQ’s, and just being with his family. I am forever grateful for the time I had with him. He taught me tolerance, kindness, and to be generous.
I remember how he visited his mom who lived next door for a cup of black coffee. She too, had very little and stuggled with depression. Back then there were not therapists or medications to help her. At age 55 years old she looked old beyond her years. As an Italian woman growing up in those times she found no joy. Everything was sorrow and a tragedy.
I remember her sisters who came to visit. Aunt Ida, Yolanda, Mary and Olga. Aunt Ida was the rebel. A woman who was independent. After all she made the long trip from Brooklyn to Smithtown in her own car that she drove. The other sisters never learned to drive. They depended on their husbands for that.
Yet, when the got together it was fun. They caused chaos, gossiped, and cooked up a storm. There was no calorie counting or reading the packages. They cooked for the joy of cooking. Lasagna, antipasta, sausage and peppers, clams, and other foods that would make your mouth water. They spent hours in the kitchen. There kitchens were not like the ones a lot have today. There was little counterspace, no microwaves, no double ovens, or dishwashers. Yet, the food was glorious.
Their brother Uncle Frank was the rock that kept the family together. He too, came from little, but was a brillant man. He could cook, fix anything, and built his own home. His wife, Josie, was a wonderful soul. I miss her so much. They had three children. One child, Uncle Eddie had down syndrome. Back then, it was unheard of for parents to keep a child like that. They did and they gave Uncle Eddie a wonderful life. He was talented and kind in so many ways. His brother and sister adored him and so did the many aunts, uncles, cousins and other family members.
I grew up in a time when there were so many aunts, cousins, uncles and other family members who each weekend spent time with each other. I remember the men going claming, the women cooking, and many, many children running around, climbing trees, and playing hide and seek. I remember my dad and his cousins climbing a cherry tree and shaking it and the kids catching the cherries as they feel.
Health insurance, Iraq, Illegal immigrants, global warming, standarized tests for children did not exist.
It was a simple time. You worked hard, you married, you cooked and ate wonderful food, you paid your bills and did what you had to do. There were not experts telling you what, how, when and why what you should do. You did not have to Press 1 for English and 2 for Spanish. You went to work for a company and at a age of 55 you received a pension. Then you had time to enjoy your life. You did not want it all. Most moms were able to stay home and raise their children. The ice cream man was a wonderful delight in the summer. Kids played outside all day long and entertained themselves. A novel idea to use their imaginations. Make forts, collect rocks, red light, green light, one two three, give children a big box and they could entertain themselves for hours. Climbing a tree without worrying if they feel that a lawyer would sue you, bundling up during the cold winter months and playing in the snow, building igloos and when they were tired they came home and had a warm cup of cocoa.
Precious memories that will forever be etched in my mind and heart.
This is only a short story of what my life has been like. Yet, those memories have made me what I am today.
