Hi tumblr! It’s been a while since I’ve actually had a chance to sit down and write to all of you. As you can imagine, since my move from Brooklyn to the Hudson valley to open up a restaurant with my mom, life has been a bit hectic! Add a now running and talking toddler to the mix and it’s even crazier. I no longer have a desk job where I can write some random posts every day, a picture here and there is all I’ve been able to handle!
Because I haven’t had much time to update my blog, I never got a chance to share that my grandma passed away a couple of weeks ago. She was 91 and lived a full and happy life. She had a great quality of life right up until a week before her death when I brought her to the hospital and she was diagnosed with pneumonia. I spent a lot of time with her that last week, and her whole family was able to make it home to see her before she passed. If you could choose a way to go, hers wouldn’t be a bad choice.
My grandpa died almost 20 years ago now, back when I was 14. We all knew my grandparents shared an unbelievable love. We saw it, we saw photos and heard stories. Dave and I chose to share our wedding anniversary with them hoping to have a love like they did. When I was helping clean out my grandmas apartment last week, I came a cross a cabinet hidden in a closet. Inside were a pile of postcards and letters. They span the years of 1943-46, while my grandpa was serving in world war 2. They are all from him to her, and let me tell you, this is a real like version of “The Notebook”. As you can see in one of the pictures I posted, he even signs the postcard, “be seeing you.” There was a tiny little address book that my grandpa used as a journal, writing daily in the summer of 1944 about what he sees and hears in the war. We think he probably kept it in his helmet.
I’m thinking about starting a blog where I can post photos and a transcript of each postcard and letter in order, so that it can be written down and the love they had can be shared with all of you. If this is something you guys think you’d be interested in, let me know!
My sister wrote a great eulogy for my grandma, and at the end she shared a story of how my grandparents met. Here it is, in her words.
Grams once told me a story about how she and my grandpa met. As the tale goes, she was coming home from work one day when she lived in the Bronx as a hip young gal, and on the same bus was my grandpa, also making his evening commute. Apparently they kept making eyes at each other, but my grandma wouldn’t accept a date. Stubborn Mary, of course she wouldn’t. So in response, Angelo, being that he knew where the bus would drop Miss Mary off, would stand down on the street outside her window whistling a tune so she could hear it, and so she couldn’t ignore him like she did on their rides home. Persistent Angelo, stubborn Mary. Are we really surprised? Clearly, the whistling paid off. I like to think that Grammy’s last days went a little something like that, too. Except my grandpa wasn’t whistling to her from below, but from far, far above. And when stubborn Mary finally gave in, the two could be together again. I think that’s really what we should all wish for – a life like the one that my grandma lived. One where we can look forward to what’s on the other side and leave a long line of lasting memories for the ones that we love.