Sunday, March 11, 2018

Eulogy

I'd like to read to you a portion of a travel journal I keep. This is from 2013, and it describes moments from the day that Pop introduced his home town, Maida, to my children.  It is titled Day Three In Maida. 

"Nonno pours espresso, thick and black, while Giovanna pins whites along the terrace clothesline. She has finally changed her blouse from the lively floral printed sleeveless to a plain blue tee.  Nonno still wears the button down he sported at the airport upon our arrival. Change is not common here.

We hike the steep road leading to the town square, "la piazza". Tall, rugged walls of slate gray rock to our left, a guardrail bordering our right. And beyond, the Appennino mountains rise and then fall, offering a glimpse of the Mediterranean Sea. The town is a series of dilapidated layers. Nonno leads us to the house where he was born. It resembles a large stall made of weathered burnt orange brick, pale stone and cement. One floor, one door, and a terra cotta shingled roof out of which sprouts vines and weeds and tangled thorny branches. Eight children lived in that house, once upon a time. He points to a small courtyard just below, and tells my kids that this is where he kept his donkey, many years ago. 

"And my girl-a-friends, I bring here, too," he confesses only to me, smiling. I laugh, and imagine this, his inspiration point ... Two teens, bathed in moonlight, sharing romance atop a scrappy, work-worn mule."

Reading this again, I am taken by how this one casual exchange exemplifies so much of that which defined my father-in-law. His humble beginnings. His powerful work ethic built upon being the eldest of a large family, and doing whatever was needed to provide. His ever-present pride in his roots and family, most especially of his son, the true light of his life. His charisma and passion for finding love, which he so successfully accomplished by marrying S, my mother-in-law, a beautiful woman who adored him and whom he cherished as well. His humor. And how hilarious he could be at the most unexpected times, like that afternoon in Maida. Or the thousands of other times we made memories together. Pop always made us laugh. He was generous and quick to happily share himself, from good stories to a good meal to the shirt off his back.

Most of all, he made us feel loved and protected. He made others feel welcomed, appreciated, valuable. He saw the potential in people, and cultivated it, just as he lovingly and diligently cultivated flowerbeds and his amazing vegetable garden. Gabe, Gabriele, Gabi, Nonno, Pop ... enriched so many lives, simply by example. I bet you are thinking of how he had an impact on your life, and you are grateful for that. We are all very lucky to have those memories, and to have been influenced and loved by one so loved. On behalf of  S, and our children, I thank you for sharing these memories and this morning with us.