It was just starting to spit a little rain as I got off the subway at “Fermata Moscova” and walked toward the cemetery, “Cimitero Monumentale“. It’s a remarkable place, but what draws me now is a wonderful, elder woman, Mary. I met her in March, over a year ago, and we’ve been “sweet on each other” ever since.
At the entrance to the cemetery, I bought flowers… of course. Then I walked into her little office area behind the cemetery chapel… “Ma-ry…”, I said. She looked at me, hesitantly said hello, then excitedly said, “Ahh, Americana!” It was so sweet.
She shuffled slowly over to her cabinet where her purse was locked up. She opened it, dug into her bag and pulled out the note card I had written to her over a month ago telling her I was coming. “I’ve been carrying it around with me for a month!”, she said, so happy.
We hugged and talked, and hugged and talked. Then we arranged the flowers to take to the statue of the Virgin, special to both of us since our names are both variants of “Mary”.
Father Francesco came in and we said “hello” again. (We had met last year when I lived in Milano.) The two of them chuckled together.
We talked. She gave me food. She gave me pictures of saints that will protect me. We smiled and hugged. She asked why I don’t stay in Italy, and I told her I’d be back to see her before I leave Milano. At 80+ she doesn’t stop, and her smile continues. And she reaches inside and tickles my heart. “Mary.”