Mama

My grandmother, Mama, has always been like a second mother to me. She and my mother are both only children; perhaps that is why they value their family so much. It could be because she was born in Italy and maintains a more traditional way of thought. Or, also quite likely, maybe it's because as she immigrated to the United States in 1927 she clung to the only people they knew in this land far away: family. Whatever the reason, she taught me that Family is the most important thing.

Now as Mama lays in the hospital, I find myself praying. Praying that the doctors can discover the cause of her pains; praying that it can be treated; praying for a little more time with Mama. I don't consider myself religious, yet I find myself praying to the blessed Mother ("never known to fail") as my grandmother has done faithfully for years. I feel rather helpless, but my visits to Mama and my prayers provide me with comfort because I know I am doing all I can do.

Mama
A woman bold and strong
Intelligent and fierce
Daughter, mother, wife, grandmother, great grandmother
Loyal friend
Stubborn a times - because she's always right
Spitfire
Graduate of RISD
Well-traveled
Bilingual
Buried two husbands
Ran her own businesses
Leader
Delicious cook
Entertainer, Hostess
Generous to all
Loving
An inspiration

I want more lunches at Papa Razzi. I want to see her light up as she watches Drew. I want to see her win more nickles at the slot machine. I want more holidays, birthdays, Sundays at my mother's. I want more stubborness. I want more laughter. I want more "sticky macaroni and cheese." I want more time. I want more...