Do you remember the Italian Mama? She taught me how to have a soundtrack to my life a year ago as I learned about sauce. Then I studied meatballs and how to clothe both them and my own children. In November, she instructed me in the fine art of relaxing and throwing those meatballs. In December (during that awful cold) she brought enough baked ziti, turkey noodle soup, bread, and chocolate to feed a village.
Today, just when I needed it most, she hosted an Italian Mama’s Lunch. Since I’m partly Italian (and studying how to be an Italian Mama), I skipped down the street like a little girl going to her first party. I couldn’t wait! I arrived to this:
Roasted peppers, tomatoes, basil, four types of cheeses, meats, olives, artichokes, fresh bread, cannoli desserts, and freshly ground espresso comprised this lunch. As we dined, I learned that Italian Mamas are always authentic, passionate, honest, generous, and so vibrant that they literally have to hug you, use hand gestures for every word, and talk about everything.
Italian Mamas live with a particular kind of flair. They can hold the whole neighborhood in their embrace. Whatever suffering–whatever hunger–they can soothe it. I know this: Everyone needs an Italian Mama for a neighbor. And even though I’m still learning how to be one, I know that I can also be that Italian Mama for someone else. I want to live that passionately and generously. I want to hug you and talk about everything.
Journal: Do you know a Mama like this? Are you one of them?