When I was younger, I spent a lot of time at my grandma’s house in the summer. We would spend the days going on walks, cooking our favorite meals, and chatting with her neighbors. My favorite thing to do was listen to her read my favorite book, “Strega Nona.” The story is about an old woman who creates cures and potions to help her neighbors. The best part about Strega Nona was her magic pasta pot! It could make infinite pasta at her command. All she had to do was sing a special song, and she would have all the pasta she could want!

One day, while my grandma was cooking pasta, I asked her if she could sing the song from “Strega Nona”. She did, and I swear that it was the best pasta I ever had! I held out my pinky and her promise to always sing the song when she made pasta for me. She took out her pinky, interlaced it with mine, and promised.

Years passed, and as I grew older, I started to spend less and less time at my grandma’s house. I visited her the day of my 17th birthday because she wanted to make me a special dinner. I entered her house and followed the smell of sauce into the kitchen. I went to greet her, but stopped when I heard her humming a familiar tune. She was putting the pasta in the pot, and quietly singing to herself. I hadn’t heard the song in so long, I almost didn’t recognize it. But it was the song from “Strega Nona”!

I walked into the kitchen and gave her a huge hug. I asked if she was singing the song because she heard me come in. She shook her head and replied that she was just keeping the promise she made to me years ago.

This gave me a new appreciation for my grandma. She was the type of person that could be trusted to keep a promise. It didn’t matter if the other person forgot, she was going to fulfill her promise.

When she got sick, I feel like everyone forgot about who she truly was. At her funeral, the overwhelming sorrow of her passing overshadowed the radiant beauty of the life she led. I just wanted a chance to share who she truly was.

As I reflect on the legacy of my grandmother, I realize that her spirit, much like the magical pasta pot in “Strega Nona,” was a never-ending wellspring of love, joy, and devotion. Her promises were not just words; they were commitments she honored with her whole heart, woven into the fabric of her being. The memory of her singing that special song, even when she thought no one was listening, is a poignant reminder of her unwavering dedication and the subtle ways she expressed her love.

In the quiet moments since her passing, I find comfort in these memories. They are gentle nudges reminding me of her lasting impact, of the lessons she imparted without even realizing it. She taught me the value of a promise kept, the beauty of simple acts of love, and the enduring power of memory.

As I carry her legacy forward, I strive to embody the same steadfastness and love in my promises and actions. Her spirit continues to guide me, a beacon of the values she held dear. In sharing her story, I hope to illuminate not just the sorrow of her absence but the brilliance of her life – a life brimming with love, laughter, and the magic of small, yet significant, acts of kindness.

So, as we remember those we’ve lost, let’s not forget the essence of who they were. Let’s share the stories that paint a vivid picture of their lives, keeping their spirit alive in our hearts and minds. My grandmother may no longer be physically present, but in every melody of “Strega Nona,” in every plate of pasta I enjoy, she is there, her legacy as enduring as the love she so freely gave.

Written By: Paige Muttillo | Marketing Manager | Catholic Cemeteries Association