Among the dedications to my amazing grandmother, what follows is the English and Italian transcription of this video from my uncle Massimo, a son-in-law, in whose house my grandmother lived with him and my aunt Luciana in her last year:
My last goodbye
It was August 4th (2019) and I was in Caserta, when a call comes in – Alert! You had to rush back in, because a second mom was about to leave. To be sure I called my niece Dr. Morena Rocca, who told me firmly: uncle you need to return. Three and a half hours and we were back in Catanzaro. Getting us to the hospital was onerous. Then space was made for my children, my son-in-law, my nephew and me, and we came in to bid you farewell. The next day, willingly or unwillingly it was fate that your moment had not come.
In the hospital you weren’t feeling well and you were going through so many painful moments. When they told us you couldn’t make it we decided with your daughter Luciana to take you to our home, to your old room. Here you felt pampered, protected and safe, far from the evil darkness. You didn’t give up …… and to our amazement you recovered. After a month, bad luck knocked on your door again, but it couldn’t keep you down. You came up with the living spirit telling death “go for a ride!” We saw you eat, joust and joke, looking happy. You had a strength that did not want to give up. Time passed and the dark knocked again, for which you ended up in the hospital again as Christmas was approaching. Days and days of treatment were continued until the hospital take her home because her life is about to end.
Once again we decide that you would have been with us in your home; there in that room, where you felt safe surrounded by your old wall. Medicine, oxygen and much more you needed to live hour by hour …You couldn’t taste food anymore and that’s how you only went on with a smoothie. Since December we have gone on without emergency visits, unfortunately seeing your strength slowly fade away.
Your will was strong but we got to that day March 27th and do you know why? We were looking forward to celebrating your 93rd birthday! The cake; The candles; it was all perfect if it weren’t for the illness that took you, forcing your loved ones not to be there. With Luciana we managed to make your grandchildren sing you best wishes through a computer.
From that moment only 48 hours passed … and on May 29 your heart stopped. On that beautiful Sunday I saw my wife Luciana vexingly go back and forth …… almost as if he felt the moment to come. You who called “my daughter; my mom; my caregiver; my everything.”
She who called you my princess no longer had the same harmony. Luciana felt the cursed hour come, but that alone, you were not ready to face. Luciana needed her sisters to accompany mom along her journey to the stars. Luciana remained by your side for several hours, but always with that great love, only when she was alone for a moment did she decide to go that way, following that light.
I put my hand on your chest, but I understood that your heart was no longer working. My tears began, but I think about how you went away just as you wanted in your house, next to your loved ones, falling asleep without feeling more pain…with tranquility ………. to reach the afterlife now.
Now everything was finished, everything had started; fly to heaven in a blissful way. Maria Torto flies to heaven, and again I bid you adieu, my second mother.
Still the virus forbids us to attend your mass; A month has already flown ………. But quiet mom; I have not forgotten
Massimo Rocca 30 March 2020
Il mio ultimo saluto
Era il 4 agosto e mi trovavo a Caserta quando arriva una chiamata; un’allerta. Bisognava di corsa rientrare, perché una seconda mamma se ne stava per andare. Per avere la certezza chiamavo mia nipote la dottoressa Morena Rocca che mi disse con fermezza: zio torna; te lo confermo con la mia bocca. Tre ore e mezzo ed eravamo a Catanzaro, ed a farci entrare l’ospedale era avaro. Ma poi spazio è stato fatto per i miei figli, mio genero, mio nipote ed io, e siamo venuti dentro per darti l’addio. Il giorno dopo, volente o nolente diceva il fato, che il tuo momento non era arrivato. In ospedale non stavi bene e passavi tanti momenti di pene; e quando ci hanno detto che non ce l’avresti fatta, decidemmo con tua figlia Luciana, di portarti a casa nostra, nella tua vecchia tana. Qui ti sei sentita coccolata; protetta e al sicuro lontana dal male oscuro…Non ti sei arresa …… e con gran stupore ti sei ripresa. Dopo un mese, la cattiva sorte bussò nuovamente alla tua porta ma non si era accorta che eri risorta. Ne sei venuta fuori con lo spirito vivo dicendo alla morte “vatti a fare un giro!”
Ti vedevamo mangiare; giocare; scherzare e contenti dicevamo: ha la forza e non se ne vuole andare. Il tempo passava e l’oscuro bussava…per il tanto male sei finita di nuovo in ospedale, mentre si avvicinava il Natale. Giorni e giorni di cure per sentirci alla fine dire: portatela a casa perché la sua vita sta per finire. Ancora una volta decidiamo che saresti stata con noi nella tua casa; lì in quella stanza, dove ti sentivi al sicuro circondata dal tuo vecchio muro. Medicine, ossigeno e tanto altro ancora ti servivano per vivere ora per ora…Del cibo nulla gustava più il tuo palato, ed è così che sei andata avanti solamente con un frullato. Ma da dicembre siamo andati avanti senza corse, vedendo purtroppo pian piano svanire le tue forze. Qui, forte è stata la tua volontà, e siamo arrivati a quel giorno là, al 27 marzo e sai perché? non vedevamo l’ora di festeggiare i tuoi anni 93. La torta; le candeline; era tutto perfetto se non fosse stato per il virus che ti ha fatto un dispetto, ha costretto i tuoi cari a non essere lì, ma con Luciana, siamo riusciti a farti cantare dai nipotini tanti auguri attraverso un pc. Da quel momento son passate solo 48 ore… e giorno 29 si è fermato il tuo cuore. In quella bella giornata di domenica vedevo mia moglie Luciana strana; avanti ed indietro andare …… quasi come sentisse il momento arrivare…Lei che definivi mia figlia; la mia mamma; la mia badante; la mia tutto. Lei che ti chiamava principessa mia, non aveva più la stessa armonia. Tu Luciana avvertivi l’ora maledetta arrivare, ma che da sola, non eri pronta ad affrontare; avevi bisogno delle tue sorelle per accompagnare la mamma tra le stelle. Siete state al suo fianco per diverse ore, ma lei, sempre con quel grande amore, solo quando è stata un attimo sola ha deciso di andarsene per quella via, seguendo quella luce …..quella scia.
Metto la mia mano sul tuo petto; ma capisco che il tuo cuore non ha più retto. Cominciano le lacrime mamma mia, ma penso al come sei andata via: proprio come tu volevi; a casa tua; accanto ai tuoi cari; addormentandoti senza sentire più dolori; con la tranquillità ………. di raggiungere ora l’aldilà. Ora tutto è finito anzi tutto è iniziato; vola in cielo in modo beato; vola in cielo Torto Maria e di nuovo ciao, seconda mamma mia.
Ancora il virus ci vieta di partecipare alla tua messa; Un mese è già volato………. Ma tranquilla mamma; non mi sono scordato
Massimo Rocca 30 Marzo2020
I will forever miss my Nonna Maria. She died today after turning 93 two days ago. The circumstances are rather odd because of the quarantines, especially in Italy.
This is us in 2009 in Calabria, where she lived her whole life. What a brilliant smile she had here. This matriarch was a savvy business person and raised NINE kids. Her sense of humor was extraordinary. Her pragmatism was to be admired. It’s the end of an era today. I’m so glad my husband Shando Darby Hayden got to meet her over the years. She made it a point to video chat us with congratulations on our wedding in 2018. Her love was always unconditional. We last saw her last September. I know she appreciated our traveling that far and making a point of spending a lot of time with her. I was the very first grandchild she had of all of her grandchildren and she lived to be a GREAT-GREAT-grandmother. How often do you hear that? My mother was the first child she had, even though my beloved mother, died four years ago. You can imagine how that broke my Nonna’s heart.
Mom and me when we lived in Sardinia, Italy – circa 1970