I’m in Rome right now, typing on my uncles computer. This is what happened on Friday March 4th.
I’m sitting on my cousins bed. She excused herself and went to the bathroom. It was pretty cold last night. I slept in bed with my cousin Tamara as her husband slept in the kitchen where they have a pull out divano(couch). I coughed a lot last night and I was hoping it wouldn’t disturb anyone. Her husband had to get up at 3am. I’m assuming he had to go to work and I’m hoping he’ll be at the funeral later on today.
My cousin Tamara finally came out of the bathroom and found me writing this in my little red leather book. I told her about my blog and how I’m anonymous and told her how much I love to write about what is happening around me. I guess it's no secret now that I'm Italian, well actually Sicilian. She smirked and I put my little book into my sleep over bag.
It was raining, it’s cold. My Zia(Aunt) Franca, which is my fathers brother’s wife (my father’s sister in law) told me that this miserable weather has lingered for over two months now. I asked for the sun to give a visit, but the day continued to be gloomy and only to become gloomier. Tamara and I walked down three flight of stairs, I had asked my cousin how the heck she didn’t get dizzy walking down these stairs. She said “Sono abituata” translation “I’m used to it.” After my dizzy spell the slight rain wet my coat. I quickly put my hood on as I walked towards the car. Tamara started her car and told me to get in while she threw the garbage out. They have these big steel dumpsters all over the streets that the garbage men collect every day. They have trucks that back up and have an attachment that picks up the dumpsters. Five minutes later we’re by her mother’s house (Zia Giovanna), where my parents and Zia Giovanna and Zia Franca and my three cousins Tony, GianLuca and Danilo await. Tony who is 30 and Tamara 28 are brother and sister, GianLuca 27 and Danilo 24 are brothers, sons of Zia Pina who just passed away. My cousins were already in Tony’s car as my cousin Tamara pulled some manoeuvre and parked behind Tony. She got out and rang her mothers doorbell. Then we waited. Zia Giovanna (Tamara and Tony’s mother) lives with Tony. Zio Paolo died many years ago. Tamara recently married Ernesto this past June or was it two June’s ago. I can’t remember. She lives about five minutes away.
My two cousins GianLuca and Danilo have no one now. Their father passed away a year and a half ago and now, on March 1st my Zia Pina was on the phone with her son GianLuca and she dropped the phone, GianLuca called out for her but she didn’t respond, he knew there was something wrong. He called the ambulance and sped home. He found his mother laying face down on the floor with blood creeping through the cracks of the tiles. She broke her nose when her face hit the floor.
She was gone.
A massive heart attack had taken my Zia to the unknown world.
I sat in the car as Tamara spoke with her brother and cousins. The front windshield was bathed with raindrops. I kept thinking to myself, “Aren’t they getting wet?”
Tamara told me to get out and join them. I told her I was cold as I got out. The rain was actually not bothersome, it wasn’t raining as hard as I thought. Something told me to turn around. I saw my Zia Franca, parents and Zia Giovanna one by one exiting the house. We waited long enough. Zia Giovana got in Tamara’s Fiatt and I sat in the back seat. Tony, GianLuca and Danilo got back into Tony’s car. My parents and Zia Franca went in Zia Franca’s red Honda Civic, it doesn’t look like the ones we have here in the states. All the cars here are very small. Smaller than our own compact cars. The streets are tight and there is no way a car bigger than a Jetta, and that is too big, can get through.
We drove to the funeral home. I was getting nervous as we started walking the gloomful streets. My hood hugged my head protecting me from the rain. I had to be strong. I had to, for my mother. She hasn’t seen her sisters in 25 years and now she is about to see one of her sisters, Pina, in a coffin. That made me nervous and the utmost miserable feeling in my heart. My mother seemed like a confused little girl. Behind her eyes seemed buried in sorrow. The pain made her pale. I wish I could hold her in my arms like a baby and rock her to sleep. My heart was ripped out of my chest leaving me empty. We finally approached an area that seemed like a short tunnel. This is where my mother embraced her cousins Rosuccia and Sal that she hasn’t seen in 30 years. The strong embrace followed by mournful tears, found my heart and dragged it on the wet Rome streets. I was introduced as the daughter. Gave a kiss on their left and then right cheek. My parents couldn’t let them go. Another person to hug and sob was to come soon. My mother’s friend from childhood, Rosalia, whom I met three and a half years ago when I was last in Rome. Rosalia called me the “Americana” and hugged me, held my hand and was by my side most of the time. She said “Hai cambiato.”, which means “You’ve changed.” Though happy to see one another again at a gathering of my aunt’s passing we felt pain.
We walked through the tunnel and were no longer sheltered from the rain. The cold wind hit me as I tried not to tremble. It was my mother who walked through two large black steel doors. She saw someone walk by in this big open space with a coffin. She turned to me and said she wasn’t ready. My absent heart cringed. We stood out in the rain and discovered my Zia’s flower arrangements on the floor outside the two large black steel doors. They laid on the left hand side. The largest one was beautiful. An array of gorgeous flowers with a ribbon that read “I figli” which means “The children”. My mother searched for the flowers we ordered the day before. My cousin Danilo informed my mother that they would be at the church and they wasn’t any of the ones she was looking at. We all stood out in the rain for about 5 to 10 minutes.
My chest was caving in. I was afraid, afraid for my mother. I didn’t know what to expect. My mother got ot the coffin before I did. This is what I heard. I’ll translate.
“My sister, my sister Pina.”
“I’m here, I’ve finally come to see you.”
“Can you hear me? Say hello to your nephew for me.” She meant her son, my brother.
“I’ve finally come to Rome sister, and I’ve found you here dead.”
She hugged the coffin and laid above her sister. She kept sobbing and talking to her deceased sister. I felt a bullet go through me. The tightness of my chest took my breath. I felt weak and cold. My body felt like it was falling, but I had to be strong. I held my chest and hurled over covering my eyes and mouth with a tissue. I tried to hide the pain. When I caught my breath I went over to my mother and laid over her back holding her tight and cried along. GianLuca stood far from his mothers coffin, he was holding it all insides. My 27 year old cousin left with only a younger brother Danilo who will be 25 in April. Danilo never left his mothers side, adjusting her sleeve caressing her face holding her hand and crying, slowly dying inside. Here in Rome they put a small gift, package in the coffin of the deceased personal things. It was wrapped in paper that was covered in hearts. He put a sewing needle (she’s a seamstress), her glasses, a photo of her when she was younger and a wedding photo and other personal things he couldn’t remember he put.
Her coffin wasn’t like the ones we have in the states. Neither was the funeral home like the ones we have in America. When you walked in, it was all open and cold. The interior was all brick with four openings two on each side. A coffin per each 4 openings. They were put on a hand truck, as everyone stood around. It looked like Draculas coffin. My Zia fit so tightly in it. She wore a beautiful dress that she only wore one time before and that was for Tamara's wedding. A veil covered the entire coffin as it touched her folded hands. Rosuccia had a red rosary that they placed into Zia Pina's fingers. I don't believe in those things, but they did. To watch them put the rosary between my Zia's fingers was painful. How they all put some effort to lay her to rest. Stories were told over my Zia's coffin, then it was time for my Zia Giovanna to talk to her deceased sister Pina. She cried, more like a howl. My mother went right by her side hugging her as Zia Giovanna said,
"You're going to leave me here, all alone. What am I going to do?"
My mother replied that she would never leave her. Then my Zia Giovanna went into some sort of shock. Her body went stiff and her head fell back as her eyes were rolling back. Everyone's face was struck with fear. I quickly went over to the other side of the coffin and grabbed my Zia Giovanna. I think there were four people holding her from behind, I grabbed her by the collor of her coat and told her...
"Zia respira! Respira Zia!"
"Guarda a me Zia, guarda nei miei occhi "
Translation
"Aunt breath! Breath Aunt!"
"Look at me, look at my eyes"
They found a chair and sat her down. I went behind her and held her head up. Tamara and Tony flipped out, they kept calling out for her.
"Mamma, Mamma, Mamma"
They didn't know what to do. I put my frigid hands on her face, trying to wake her up. Rosalia came over and sprayed some perfume up my aunts nose. Rosalia is a nurse. She finally came through. I was afraid for my mother, I only saw my aunt and was blinded from my mother. I didn't know where she was and I was hoping she wasn't falling too. They opened up her coat and try to get her some air. I told everyone to move away she needed room, to let her get some air.
The rest I will type when I get back to America. I’m going to Sicily tomorrow. It’s pass midnight here and everyone is going to bed.
