Aunt Alice

Recently, my friend Isabel, was blogging about helping others and the views different cultures have regarding helping one another.

This week I attended the funeral of my Auntie Alice.  The entire day I was nearly to the point of being overwhelmed by the feeling of love emanating from her extended family.

Alicia Armijo is my aunt by marriage.  She was the mother of the wife of one of my first cousins.  To many “Westerners” this might be quite a stretch, but our family still retains many of the customs (and idiosyncrasies) of our Latin heritage.

Our side of the family, for the most part, is descended from Italian immigrants.  My maternal grandparents came to America from Naples, Italy, in the very early 20th Century.  My cousin’s wife, Diane, springs from Mexican roots.  When they were married, the wedding party had at least 20 people.  I can’t remember the exact number… I can’t remember much from that day as the husband of one of her cousins and I started making sure the beer keg was properly functioning even before the wedding began.  I am hoping the statute of limitations has expired on that confession…

To our family, once you marry into the family, you’re family.

Salvatore “Sam” Nuzzo

Maria Nuzzo

Many years ago, when eulogizing my Grandfather, I quoted an unknown source by saying, “My Grandparents were Italian, my parents were Italian/American (though my father really wasn’t), I am American/Italian and my children are American.”  That fits very well, but we still hold many traditions and try to pass down as many as we can.

Again, one of the most solid traditions we have is to be together as a family; especially in times of tribulations and grief.

Fr, Joe Boenzi (Center)

My cousin, Joe Boenzi, was the priest celebrating the funeral mass as our large group gathered to pray for our dear Aunt Alice and say our final goodbyes.  Father Joe began by referring to everyone in attendance as “family.”  Intelligent and articulate do not come close to describing his skills.  And I have grown up hearing his voice at family weddings, renewals of vows, baptisms and funerals.  I was immediately calmed by hearing his voice as he began the service.  Something familiar… something familial.

Their church is incredibly beautiful and, even through tears, I took notice of the beautiful family in this beautiful setting.  As we prayed for our Aunt, we also prayed that the family would find strength to carry on and the He would aid them in their time of grief.

Being called by Name

Then they took away the stone from the place where the dead was laid. And Jesus lifted up his eyes, and said, Father, I thank thee that thou hast heard me.
And I knew that thou hearest me always: but because of the people which stand by I said it, that they may believe that thou hast sent me.
And when he thus had spoken, he cried with a loud voice, Lazarus, come forth.
And he that was dead came forth, bound hand and foot with grave-clothes: and his face was bound about with a napkin. Jesus saith unto them, Loose him, and let him go.
………………………………………………….~ John 11: 41-44

Father Joe spoke of Lazarus and how the verses symbolize Jesus calling each of us to him by name.  It is my understanding that, in ancient texts, when it says you will know the name of something, you know its actual Essence.  To me that sounds like He is calling directly to our Essence; our Souls.  And thinking of us on that level, our spiritual level, reminds me that we are all of the same Spirit, the same family.

Lina Hayek

Channer Harris

As the service progressed, my thoughts returned to precious moments with Auntie Alice; family gatherings and joyous times all.  We were treated to lovely hymns by Lina Hayek and her guitar, and she was “accompanied” by my nephew, Channer, who loves to join in during services; especially the songs.

Time with Family is always Precious

During the procession to the cemetery, I drove Joe and his mother, my Auntie Connie.  She and Auntie Alice, besides being related by the marriage of two of their children, were best of friends and put in many hours volunteering at their parish.  Joe teaches graduate school in Berkeley, California and in Rome, Italy.  Quiet, private time with him is a real treat.

Papa & Nona Nuzzo

During the drive we talked of family history and I learned some things I never knew about my family and their emigration to America.  I have said of my cousin, “If you ask Joe what time it is, he will tell you how the watch was built in Geneva…”  I mean that with love and respect, Joe!  I have always enjoyed the knowledge I get from talking with him, if even for a few, precious moments each year.

A Final Sprinkling of Blessings

The graveside service was poignant.  To me, that part of a funeral day has such finality.  Yet, as I saw the grand-kids and great-grand-kids, cracking confetti-filled Easter Eggs on her coffin, sprinkling it with the symbolic blessings as she had done to them for so many years, I knew that Auntie Alice lived on in all of them.  And I know she will live in our hearts until we see her again.

When they heard I was out for the day for a funeral, several friends had asked me who had passed away.  I said, “My Aunt Alice.  She’s not really my Aunt, but she is the mother of my cousin’s wife so…”  And, to a person, they all nodded and stopped my explanation, their gestures saying, “Yeah, yeah, we know you Italians and your large, extended families…”

To me, coming from these traditions, from this type of family, is one of my greatest blessings.