Eulogy for Mom
December 8, 1924 - June 8, 2019 Back in the day, when my siblings and I were growing up, children were sometimes left in the dark. We learned many tidbits of information about our parents later on in life. So unbeknownst to us, our Mom, whom we simply knew as Mary Benevento, was officially born Maria Immaculata Schiano-DiCola. Maria Immaculata was THE PERFECT first and middle names for Mom as she certainly possessed purity of heart. Her kind, gentle soul was indeed Godly in nature.
Take time to walk around the room, perusing the photographic journey of Mom’s life. You will notice what we, as her children, always knew…
Mom was not only a beautiful woman but she was also a FASHIONISTA . . . way before that word was even invented. She loved nice clothes and makeup. Mom dressed impeccably, her outfits complete with jewelry, gloves, the latest shoes and the most darling of hats. Dad used to boast that she had the most beautiful gams (legs) he’d ever seen. Mom often used the word FAMILY as a password on her home computer. She lived her Life devoted to all members of family, whether it be her own mother, sister Millie, brothers Salvatore and Joseph, her children, grandchildren, great grandchildren, her in-laws, etc. And of course, she was devoted to her partner in Life. We hope you get to read both framed letters that’s on the table. They each were written by Mom and Dad to one another. Their mutual devotion was divinely evident. Tragically, Dad prematurely left this earth in November of 1970 at the young age of 47. Mom was totally devastated. We all were. It wasn’t easy being thrust a widow with young children at the age of 46. But she had always told us that Dad was her ONE. AND. ONLY. Her conviction to never remarry was made by her with her children’s best interest at heart. The grief of losing Dad had never ended, really. It was simply tolerated. To quote a passage I once wrote in my second book, Trampled Underfoot: “At 47 he’d been taken way too soon, leaving us rudderless and drifting in a sea of grief with broken hearts, shattered dreams, and a legacy of unfinished memories.” In stark contrast to Dad’s early death, my siblings and I feel very fortunate to have had Mom with us for as long as we did. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Mom was a caring and compassionate woman. Her childhood aspiration was to become a nurse. She would’ve been excellent in that profession but she had worked in the computer field before there were computers. She was a Keypunch Operator, retiring from Rahway Hospital in 1984. Soon after retiring she moved down to Georgia to live with our eldest sister, Terry, husband Jim and her two grandsons, Jimmy and Sean. But on June 12th 1989, another stab to Mom’s heart came with the death of Terry from cancer at the age of 40. Terry’s death was a severe blow, not just to Mom but to every member in our family. We’ve suffered greatly from her loss. Terry’s passing could’ve completely destroyed Mom, but she was much stronger than we gave her credit for. Mom went on to survive Thyroid cancer and a cystic brain tumor. Her Christian faith in God and reading His Biblical passages gave her strength to get through what life had thrown at her. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~ Did you know Mom was a great cook? Of course she was. She was Italian and learned from one of the best.
She learned many dishes from her own mother, our grandma Theresa DeCola. But one particular dish which Grandma DeCola made from scratch was homemade Gnocchi.
It was Mom’s favorite and one she regretted not being able to duplicate. She’d be sure to repeat this same story at every restaurant that offered Gnocchi on the menu. And she would order it. “Oh this is nothing like Grandma’s. Her Gnocchi was so much better than this," she’d say. I would simply nod my head, uh huh, uh huh, not realizing that one day I’d wish to again hear her voice repeating it. That day is today. Sunday tradition for our household was an early afternoon meal of iceberg salad, and macaroni and meatballs, whether that be spaghetti or ziti depending upon Mom’s mood.
Of course, us kids would complain, “Oh no, not spaghetti again! Why can’t we have Lasagna?” Well! Everyone knows that, back in the day, Lasagna was for reserved only for special occasions, not ordinary Sunday meals. Needless to say, our childish moaning and groaning did not fly with her one bit. Mom made many wonderful foods, including the best chicken cutlets, chicken soup, the most delicious broccoli-rabe, and the most delectable Italian sweets. Mom made the best Strufoli. She taught me how. And I make it every Christmas. Mom did love her sweets.
She’d look forward to going out for COFFEE, AND… as she put it. Whether it be coffee and a cannoli, which was her favorite, or us taking her to Delicious Orchards for coffee and Apple Cider donuts. She used to love going there with Dad, oh so long ago.
We sometimes would reminisce with Mom about the times we all, including Dad, would tease her that she never made meatballs quite the same way twice. Each Sunday became a meatball surprise. She’d take it well and laugh along with us saying, “I cook by instinct, not by measuring.”
Mom’s favorite cooking utensil was a wooden spoon. She went through quite a few of those, especially with having 5 children. And this time I’m NOT talking about cooking!
I will never forget one particular night that I, an out-of-control 20 year old, arrived home at a very ungodly hour to Mom waiting by the front door with a threatening wooden spoon. Needless to say I hightailed it up to my room. Of course, she didn’t even try, but I wasn’t going to hang around to test her. The last 8 years of Mom’s life were difficult, and heartbreaking.
Mom’s rapid decline was a solid year in the making. As sad and upsetting as these particular last two weeks were, we take comfort in these thoughts:
She is no longer suffering the ill effects of advanced age. And has moved on into the light of God with Dad, Terry and other family members who have gone before her.
Mom, please join hands with them all, and fly high with the angels in Heaven, as all of you are forever lovingly cradled in God’s Grace.
And for that we are so grateful.
In closing: Mom lived well for 94 years, and in those 94 years she was well loved. We love you Mom.
Elizabeth, Frank, Laura and Josephine
