October 18, 1998. A freeze-frame moment, for any child; the day their Mother passes on.
I held her hand. I put a rose on her chest. We were all standing around her bed - all 5 of her children. A surreal moment in time...in space....in emotion...in reality. Life goes on.
It seems so long ago in my menory; yet...I can still 'be there', be in that moment. When her breath stopped, so did mine. We all cried..a quiet, haunting cry. Tho a family tied together by death, we were also - each of us, alone in our personal place with our Mother. Each of us with our own memories, our own regrets, our own particular pain.
But the grief bound us all together - to that moment. We all lost our rock; we all lost the person who held us together even in our disagreements and periods of not speaking. She kept us tethererd to our roots, the genes that bound us to a legacy of strength and courage and Love like none other!
The years of pasta made in that large, dented, old pot; the memory of who might be the first awake the next morning to reap the treasure of frying up the wonderful remans in gobs of butter and Parmesan.
Her Pea, Pickle and Celery salad, her cole slaw in a huge jar that we worked at for days to finish. Her salads with home-made dressing birthed from her French and Italian genetics based in pure olive oil, as only she could concoct!
We knew better than to touch ANYTHING in her tool box. Our Mother not only raised us with ternderness and Love and caring, but also built houses and welded airplane parts at Grumman Aircraft during WWII; one of the only woman there - and one of the BEST welders! I recall a picture of her then, with her welding hat on and a smile the size of Texas! Beautiful; strong; confident.
I am the oldest of her 5 children; I always recall the story of how she finally put a safety pin in her regular skirt two weeks before I was born. Her stomach muscles were just as strong as her courage and intelligence.
I recall her story about skipping two grades in grammar school. She wanted to be a biologist, but life took over. But her children became 'her life' as she would tell anyone who would listen. And from the time I, as the oldest, was 13, she raised us by herself - working two jobs most days. There were times in my youth when I had her clothes in my hands as she raced in from one job - ran thru the shower and I literally helped her dress as she scurried back out the door, since she had so little time between jobs.
She would have died an thousand deaths rather than ask for money to help raise her family. She raised show dogs (Miniature Collies) on the side, to help us eat. I recall one Thanksgiving; there was little food in the house - certainly nothing resembling a Thanksgiving dinner. That morning, a buyer called to see if she had puppies left from her advertisement months before; she had one - almost full grown. The buyer came from hours away and bought that dog. I took her to work that nite and used the car to go to the grocery store to buy dinner. One of our most meaningful Thanksgivings!
Was she the best Mom on the planet? No; there is no such animal! But her depth of Love, her courage in the face of life as it was dealt to her, her capacity for forgiveness, her ability and strength of character to persevere and press on when her road had the incline of a cliff - was genetic; and I thank her every day for those genes.
Her sense of fairness; I recall one time when there was a chocolate candybar for us to share. She so carefully split it into five even pieces. She never showed favoritism; always strived to Love us equally.
When we would go for drives in the country, she would point to a stunning sunset or an awesome mountain range and tell us; "That is God's work...HIS beauty!"
She told me once: "Make sure you go out every day and give three honest complements". I never forgot that. And I practice it often. Her depth of Love...
She taught me to enjoy books, introduced me to my favorite story - HEIDI. Which, as I see things in my 'rearview mirror'...scripted my life in many ways.
We had our periods of "quiet"; when I was convinced she was an unfit parent...when I swore I would never stoop to speak to her again. Yet - each time I re-learned a tad more about those endless life-lessons...humility, forgiveness, undertsanding - and - of the true meaning of what FAMILY, Love and respect... are all about. It takes hard work at times as life teaches us to bow to Love instead of pride...humility instead of 'self' and ego.
Now, as I experience that age where she was when she passed - with the life understanding that ONLY comes with that age, some regrets linger in my darker shadows of memory. The many things I SHOULD have said, the many things I so wish - I had NOT. The many questions I now have about our family history, recipes only she knew, information of my youth, etc., of which I had no interest at my yournger age - then. I understand now, the chasm of age that separates us from the undetrstanding that parents have, that AGE has - that youth does not - CANNOT comprehend. One of the sadder parts of life.
I miss her with all that I am. I "sense" her sometimes...a certain word spoken, a smile shared, feel her presence while I prepare a home made pasta sauce; 'feel' her energy as I build a chicken fence or use tools to create a closet shelf...as I fondly recall that untouchable 'tool box'.
I recall her wedding picture; she was a beauty to behold, tho I suspect she never really understood that part of herself; her humility and poise said it all.
Rest in peace, "Me-mere". Know you are missed and Loved...forever.
Renee C Arcuri was born on June 22, 1921. She died on October 18, 1998 at 77 years of age.
https://www.ancientfaces.com/person/renee-c-arcuri-birth-1921-death-1998/9094689
Butterflies; free to come...and free to go their own way.
Your oldest,
Danielle
