This is not a happy post, but it is something that I have to write about.
The past few months have been exceptionally rough for me. April 21st, the world lost a wonderful woman. My world lost one of the most important women. My grandmother, the one I have spoken so highly of in my previous posts, passed away from a massive heart attack. She didn't suffer, which is good, but instead, I have been suffering. I have not allowed myself to grieve at all. Its not healthy to not grieve, but for some reason, I guess I just wasn't ready to accept it. This stuff is all taken from my memory, so some things may not be correct.
Virginia Ann Culotta was born January 11, 1928. She used to tell me that she and Mickey Mouse were the same age. 1928 was the same year that Walt Disney created his empire. It was a good year. She was born in Cleveland, Ohio and was the youngest of 5 children. Her mother and father were both from St. Agata, Sicily. Her father, Antonino, was in the Sicilian Navy. The most interesting thing she told me was that her parents met in America, even though they were from the same town. They even came through Ellis Island on the same ship, several years apart. We looked it up on Geneology.com. Antonino had a son from a previous marriage, but the other four were from Anna, my great grandmother. Antonino died of stomach cancer when my grandma was just a little girl, leaving Anna to care for her four girls alone.
In 1955, a few years after she married my grandfather, Virginia and Hank moved their two children, Janice and my father, Tony, to California. They bought a home in the San Fernando Valley and my grandfather got a job working in the movie industry. My aunt, Cheryl, was born shortly after. After Cheryl was born, they found out that she had Cerebral Palsy. My grandmother spent her entire life caring for her family and then for us grandkids. She lived an entire lifetime of heartache. And in 1970, the death of her eldest daughter, Janice, brought a whole new world of sadness into the Salerno household.
I spent my entire childhood with my grandmother. She taught me to cook and to care for a home. I was raised with a lot of old school values. My grandma taught me so many things. She was the kindest, most wonderful woman I have ever met. As I got older, I began to appreciate her even more. Over the last 8 or so years, we became exceptionally close. I visited her once a week, every week for the past 8 years. After I lost my job last April, my visits got sparse due to the distance, but we still kept in touch over the phone. After my son was born, she called me 2-3 times a day for the first month. She got to meet Gabriel a few times and was so fascinated at what a beautiful little boy he was. She told me, "I cant wait until he starts crawling and walking." I really think that her mind and body took a turn for the worst in the middle of February, because I barely heard from her. I feel like she knew her time was coming or she was just ready. She had a lot of problems with her knees. It got so bad towards the end, she was hardly able to stand for more than 5-10 minutes at a time.
The Friday before she passed, I was supposed to go to see her and bring Gabriel, but I never made it. Gabriel had a rough day and I just didn't leave the house. Time got away from me, and I never got a chance to call. Saturday passed, and Sunday went just as fast. Monday morning, my husband and I woke up to multiple missed calls from my dad. They were the calls I had spent a lifetime dreading. My grandma was found in the middle of the night on the kitchen floor. Dishes in the sink and water still running. She always saved her dishes for before bed. She never finished them that evening.
It took me weeks to let go of the fact that I didn't call her that weekend and that I didn't show up on that Friday. Things happen, I guess. My grandma was my best friend. I lost a huge part of me that day. As I laid in bed, nursing my son and crying over the news I had just gotten, I couldn't help but think about how Gabriel will never remember her. She will live on through photographs, the things that she taught me and the stories she told. But I will never forget that day. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her. I can still hear her voice when she called me, "Hi Gina, its Gramma." I just wish I could pick up the phone and call her. There are so many things I want to tell her.
I think that losing someone close to you is hard enough, but when its so sudden, the wound takes longer to heal.
I will love you forever, Grammy.
The past few months have been exceptionally rough for me. April 21st, the world lost a wonderful woman. My world lost one of the most important women. My grandmother, the one I have spoken so highly of in my previous posts, passed away from a massive heart attack. She didn't suffer, which is good, but instead, I have been suffering. I have not allowed myself to grieve at all. Its not healthy to not grieve, but for some reason, I guess I just wasn't ready to accept it. This stuff is all taken from my memory, so some things may not be correct.
Virginia Ann Culotta was born January 11, 1928. She used to tell me that she and Mickey Mouse were the same age. 1928 was the same year that Walt Disney created his empire. It was a good year. She was born in Cleveland, Ohio and was the youngest of 5 children. Her mother and father were both from St. Agata, Sicily. Her father, Antonino, was in the Sicilian Navy. The most interesting thing she told me was that her parents met in America, even though they were from the same town. They even came through Ellis Island on the same ship, several years apart. We looked it up on Geneology.com. Antonino had a son from a previous marriage, but the other four were from Anna, my great grandmother. Antonino died of stomach cancer when my grandma was just a little girl, leaving Anna to care for her four girls alone.
In 1955, a few years after she married my grandfather, Virginia and Hank moved their two children, Janice and my father, Tony, to California. They bought a home in the San Fernando Valley and my grandfather got a job working in the movie industry. My aunt, Cheryl, was born shortly after. After Cheryl was born, they found out that she had Cerebral Palsy. My grandmother spent her entire life caring for her family and then for us grandkids. She lived an entire lifetime of heartache. And in 1970, the death of her eldest daughter, Janice, brought a whole new world of sadness into the Salerno household.
I spent my entire childhood with my grandmother. She taught me to cook and to care for a home. I was raised with a lot of old school values. My grandma taught me so many things. She was the kindest, most wonderful woman I have ever met. As I got older, I began to appreciate her even more. Over the last 8 or so years, we became exceptionally close. I visited her once a week, every week for the past 8 years. After I lost my job last April, my visits got sparse due to the distance, but we still kept in touch over the phone. After my son was born, she called me 2-3 times a day for the first month. She got to meet Gabriel a few times and was so fascinated at what a beautiful little boy he was. She told me, "I cant wait until he starts crawling and walking." I really think that her mind and body took a turn for the worst in the middle of February, because I barely heard from her. I feel like she knew her time was coming or she was just ready. She had a lot of problems with her knees. It got so bad towards the end, she was hardly able to stand for more than 5-10 minutes at a time.
The Friday before she passed, I was supposed to go to see her and bring Gabriel, but I never made it. Gabriel had a rough day and I just didn't leave the house. Time got away from me, and I never got a chance to call. Saturday passed, and Sunday went just as fast. Monday morning, my husband and I woke up to multiple missed calls from my dad. They were the calls I had spent a lifetime dreading. My grandma was found in the middle of the night on the kitchen floor. Dishes in the sink and water still running. She always saved her dishes for before bed. She never finished them that evening.
It took me weeks to let go of the fact that I didn't call her that weekend and that I didn't show up on that Friday. Things happen, I guess. My grandma was my best friend. I lost a huge part of me that day. As I laid in bed, nursing my son and crying over the news I had just gotten, I couldn't help but think about how Gabriel will never remember her. She will live on through photographs, the things that she taught me and the stories she told. But I will never forget that day. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about her. I can still hear her voice when she called me, "Hi Gina, its Gramma." I just wish I could pick up the phone and call her. There are so many things I want to tell her.
I think that losing someone close to you is hard enough, but when its so sudden, the wound takes longer to heal.
I will love you forever, Grammy.
Virginia Ann Salerno
January 11, 1928 - April 21, 2013
Comments
Post a Comment