by Maureen | May 31, 2011 | Church, Incredible Locations, Introspection, Journal, Milano, People, Photos, Quips
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.”
by Maureen | Jul 20, 2010 | Church, Featured Articles, Introspection, Journal, People, Photo of the Day, Photos
It would have been impossible to leave Milano without saying “goodbye” to Mary.
Our first meeting is a story in itself, finally happening last March after much anticipation. We’ve seen each other a few times since then, meeting in the little office behind the cemetery chapel.
Today I showed up in the afternoon, after the typical Italian lunch break, with red lilies in-hand for Mary. I found her at the altar, preparing everything for the next Mass. She lit up in surprise, and immediately went into the back room to split the lilies into 3 vases: 1 for either side of the altar, 1 for the Madonna.
She’s the sweetest, and implored that I NOT move away from Milano. But as I’ve told her before, I have family, friends and work back in Seattle that pull me there, so I must go. Don’t think she didn’t try to convince me to stay though!
We sat at her desk and talked for a long time. We exchanged mailing addresses and I told her that, with the computer, I can call her for free. She was thrilled.
She rummaged through the cupboards, wanting to send me home with gifts. She found a bottle of Muscat sparkling wine produced by the friars, a bracelet with pictures of 12 saints, a rose-scented rosary, a little bottle of holy water and half a dozen copies of the photo of Don Giuseppe Gervasini, Milano’s very own protector. If I carry his image with me, he will protect me from all harms, she explained.
Mary also gave me a couple dozen pages on which she has written, in her “rotondo penmanship”, the names of the dead being honored at the chapel masses.
Father Francesco came into the office a few times. I had met him in my previous visits; during the last, Mary asked him to bless me for the answer to my prayers.
When we finally said our goodbye, I said “first, an Italian kiss, then an American hug”. We kissed on both cheeks, actually several times, then I gave her a big hug goodbye.
What a dear, dear lady. Meeting her has been one of the great treasures of my time here.
by Maureen | Jul 18, 2009 | Introspection, Journal
Absolutely wild thunder, lightning and a drenching rain in the middle of the night last night, following several days of 100-degree, thigh-sticking, humid weather. When I looked out this morning, the pavement was dry(!), and the leaves were moving in a breeze.
Good day for a bike ride!
After my morning ablutions and a good breakfast of sauteéd veggies and eggs, I geared up, grabbed the bike and set foot out my door. Wow! Dramatically cooler than the rest of the week! The air was even chilling on my bare arms! Perfect.
My canal-side path had already become customary, a “safe” and known choice. As I approached the intersecting crossroads, I glanced to right and left, intrigued. OK. Today, I’d wander off and explore! What towns lay to either side of the canal? What did the front of a building look like when I had only been looking at its back side? I took an easy, relaxed pace.
From the south ring of Milano, the canal passes through or near Assago, Rozzano, Badile, Zibido and Binasco, going toward Pavia. At either side there are shopping centers, warehouses and office complexes. There are contemporary, glaze-bricked high-rise apartment buildings, and old, single-story dwellings with tile rooftops and flaking stucco. There are rice paddies (yes!) and corn, tasseled out and higher than my head. I smell lunches being prepared as I ride past open doors and windows. The scent of algae in canal water is the closest I get to a saltwater, low-tide beach. Fish school and swell, heads pointing upstream.
One little side road had a very official-looking sign pointing to an agricultural cooperative. That looked interesting! I followed the one-lane road for a ways but could see that the farm must be located on the other side of the parallel freeway, so I’ll save that for a later day-excursion.
Badile had an easy “off”, so I hustled my bike across the busy road, on foot, and headed east. Little pizzerie, photogenic old churches, more modern apartments, gardens, fields… and the sign for the local cimitero. I’m a sucker for a cemetery anywhere in the world. I marvel at the stories deduced and the empathy aroused when reading gravestones. Markers for war heroes and little children always get me, and I walk amidst the graves reciting the names. Always.
After three hours of strolling on two wheels, I headed back north to home. Two blocks from my apartment I had a close call with a car pulling out of its parking spot, its front end all of a sudden in my path. I left a black rubber mark on the pavement as I braked, and rode into the freshly-vacated parking spot… and then I kept on rolling homeward. Whew. That was enough of a ride for the day. I had had my excitement, my wonder and my exercise.
