EULOGY FOR MY MOTHER, ELISABETTA
My mother was born Elisabetta Scarfo,) ct 24th 1925 in the small mountain town of Mammola, Reggio Calabria Italy.She was one of a large prosperous merchant family of 8, the daughter of Domenico and Maria Rosa, of which she is now only survived by her dear sister Palmina, here in Toronto and her younger sister Zia Giovanna and Zio Giovanni who is 96,a teacher and a mentor to me.
She died this Palm Sunday, March 28th at Sunnybrook Hospital after an emergency heart operation, to save her ailing and weakened heart. She was 84 years old.
All her life my mother was a woman of courage, enduring strength, determination, at times unbelievable fortitude. All her life my mother fought and struggled to make a better life for me and her five children, my sister Mary, my dear sister Rose, brother Joseph and youngest brother Conrad. She raised us all, never faltering for a minute, cooking cleaning, giving to us from the moment she opened her eyes to moment she went to sleep. She was always the first one up preparing breakfast and if she wasn’t at work she was in the kitchen preparing dishes that years later, only years later, having traveled the world, were gourmet meals, the best in Toronto.
When I moved to L.A. to pursue my acting career I had friends in the entertainment business who pleaded with me to bring back from Toronto my mothers pizza, or gnocchi, or homemade pasta, her pitejji, her melanzani tjini or her stokku ku patati.
When I became a TV star in the 80’s I had a famous New York producer take me out to a famous restaurant in the Big Apple.
“You can only get in by invitation..” He told me. Wait till you taste the food..!!”
The night before President Clinton had eaten there, studio heads and Wall St Tycoons..Movie stars and yes mobsters…
I could hardly wait!
Imagine my surprise when biting into the manicotti, the lasagna, etc..I realized..It was my mother’s cooking..
“I grew up with this food..!” I remarked..”I ate it every night, only being the idiot kid I was I used to slip to have the Canadian cuisine.. Hamburgers and French fries!!
But it wasn’t just her cooking; it was the size, the gargantuan, the Aspromonte, the Vulcanian size of her heart. My mother was a giant in the area of love.
They tell me that in this world there are 2 kinds of people. Givers and takers. My mother was a giver par exellence. And there is something else I want to tell you about her. She was Queen.
And her passing has left a hole in my heart and in the hearts of those that loved her, the size of Charybdis.As big as the Grand Canyon- a moon shaped crater of loss. How I will miss her, how she will be missed…by me by Mary and by Rosa and Conrad and Joe and by her nipotini by Vanessa, Samantha, Alessandra, Saramelia, Julia, my son Sasha…and the others. A perfumed bouquet of grandchildren who carry within them her spirit and her fire.
She has left a galaxy of nipotini, of children, as beautiful as her carrying within their hearts the sacred torch she bore as ancient as the Greeks and the Egyptian Kings and Queens who I now know were her true ancestors and her legacy…
I am softened in my loss of her because I know that where she has gone is the Paradise Land she left, long ago, to come to earth of travail and tears…My mother has gone home and I am glad for her.
I am softened in her loss because I now see her in the eyes of her grandchildren.. in Saramelia, Samantha, Julia, Vanessa, Alessandra…
I am softened in her loss because I know she has gone into gladness and has returned to the throne she has so rightfully earned.
I am softened in her loss because I now know that she is out of suffering and back in the bosom of those who loved her as terribly as we loved her here in earth…, her dear mother, my grandmother, her sisters and her brothers, her kin..
I know how much she had missed her mamma as I now miss mine…
Mamma, where you have gone we all miss you so so much and yearn for the day when we can be reunited again in that blissful land of joy and peace, where harmony and beauty prevailed, the beauty that shone from your heart like the blessed heart of the Virgin Mary, to whom you prayed to every day.
A few days before her death her granddaughter Samantha had a dream that there was a dark-skinned Indian woman in her room. “Who are you?” Samantha asked of the spirit. “I am her younger sister” She replied. “We have come to take Nonna home…”
Elisabetta has finally returned home.
Keep praying mamma, don’t stop. We on this side need your prayers, like a sweet perfume, rising to God.
We on this earth will not see your like again but you have given us all an example of what to strive for and what to become…you have taught us that Love is an Action and not empty words…
Keep praying for us dear mamma. I will miss you. Mary will miss you, your dear Rosa will miss you, your children Joe and Conrad, your grandchildren will miss you and I your first born will miss you forever…
Remember us in your travels into eternity, as we shall always remember you!
Your Son
Nicodemo
Nick M.
Posted by Yisrael Harris on September 24, 2011 at 11:40 AM
Very moving post, Nick. Your beloved mother is shining. BTW, I’ve been a fan ever since “Ticket To Heaven”.
Posted by jenneandrews on May 28, 2010 at 2:49 PM
Si. Bellissimo omaggio. Mi dispiace….xj
Posted by Nick Mancuso on April 27, 2010 at 11:04 PM
thank you skyeyes, its very true what you write, it does feel like standing on the edge of a cliff-i guess we cant know that until it happens to us and it happens to all of us-we all will lose eventually those we love and those that love us through the powerful act of death. death will come to all of us and loss will come to all as we travel thru this grand mystery of existence how can we not stand in awe before the ocean of eternity?lets live our lives to the best we can- it will come to an end -as the death our parents show us and as the birth of our children also show us-life is immortal-death is immortal- peace-nm
Posted by silentdancer96 on September 10, 2010 at 1:01 PM
True, the feeling doesn’t go away, but the way you carry it does. It doesn’t stay on center stage, but it can become the scenery. May He keep you safe and comforted in His hug.
Your Mama is so much like my Gram, reading this is like gazing into a rainbow, looking at the Son through the tears. They even have the same name.
Posted by skyblueyes on April 19, 2010 at 6:17 PM
When death pays you a visit, you feel like you’re on a cliff overlooking the ocean and the small little boy in you has now been abandoned. Left behind forever. The parents that gave you life are like the waves rolling out to sea until the darkness takes them and they are gone. Standing there you are now the vulnerable child who needs his mother. The hole in you matches the blackness that now envelopes you as the night has come. As you are standing there, the wind softly blowing in your hair, you realize your own mortality, the reflection of your life in those moments and the emptiness you now feel.. As grief washes over you, it goes straight to your soul.
You want to reach out – to connect – to soften the pain. You need to feel it. No good choices are made when the heart is raw. I know this because I have recently stood on that same cliff looking out over the crashing waves and my tortured, restless spirit could not be quelled. My thoughts are with you.
Skyblueyes
Posted by deblinn on April 8, 2010 at 5:35 PM
you and your family will be in my prayers,
your right nick, your beautiful mother is in a far better place now.
Posted by magaligianni on April 1, 2010 at 9:31 PM
E ‘impossibile non piangere durante la lettura.Molto emozionante.Soprattutto perché ho perso anche mia madre, ma vent’anni fa, il dolore si è trasformato in nostalgia…Si fa un bellissimo omaggio a tua madre con questo testo.Dio vi benedica, mio caro. Magali-BR