How can one ever summarise the life and love of their beloved mother in a few words in just a few short minutes? One cannot do justice to the kind, caring, gentle loving wife, mother, grandmother, great grandmother, sister, daughter, relative, friend and neighbour that she was. My mother Yolanda was born on the 10th of February 1923, in the small town of Ganzirri, Messina. She was the seventh of nine children. I can’t imagine what it would have been like growing up during the Great Depression and then World War II. But notwithstanding growing up in such difficult times, or because she did grow up in such difficult times, my mother had a great love for the simple things in life, and she celebrated her life every day in the way she loved and enjoyed what she did. She would often tell us of the love she had for her brothers and sisters; and how they helped each other after the death of their mother and her father taking ill, especially her older brothers who stepped up to look after their family and ensure that they had enough to get through the difficult times. It was not surprising that she took the passing of seven of her siblings so badly, such was the love she had for each of them and she would often speak with love and affection of her only remaining sister in Italy. My mother met the love of her life my father Santo in Ganzirri, and they married on the 14th of December 1952, when they immigrated to Australia to start a new life and family together. As a wife, she loved and cherished her husband. Her love for my father, and his for her, was playful, enduring, passionate (as Italians are known to be), forgiving, helpful, supportive and much more. She would also say that all it took was the sound of my father’s voice, calling out to her, as her arrived home from work to make her happy. She appreciated and saw the beauty in the small things in life and they meant the world to her. On the 18th of September 1955 Yolanda and Santo had their first child Antonietta (known as Annette). I Nunzio (known as Norman) was her second child and surely no accident even though I was born on born on the 18th of September 1963. Obviously Christmas time was a special time for my parents. As a mother and Nonna, she was a perfect role model to her family. She wore her love of life and family on her sleeve, and this was all it took to bring a smile to everyone’s face. Again it was the simple things that made her so special to all of us. For example, often whilst cooking dinner she would break out in a chorus of song, and she had a pretty good singing voice. It’s no wonder that her favourite movie was the Sound of Music. She must have seen that movie at least 15 times. It may not just have been the sounds and the singing in the movie that were special to her. Perhaps it was also how closely she related to the theme of a fairly large and young family left with no mother in war torn Europe, closely sticking together during the war years, and singing their way to freedom. It must have touched a special place in her heart. At night when things settled down or at special family gatherings, like Christmas and Easter, she loved sharing stories with us of her life in Italy. Even though times were tough, her stories of family and friends showed how she looked for the joy and fun in every circumstance. She loved sharing the stories of all the laughter and antics that the characters in her village got up to. And though there seemed to be lots of mischief and practical jokes, it ended in fond memories and lifelong friendships. Her stories ended with a big smile on everyone’s face and tears of laughter. When she came to Australia to start her life with my father, she said the minute she saw Sydney Harbour she fell in love with the country, and felt so fortunate to be here. She would often say how beautiful Australia is, and how wrong people back in Italy are, when they diminished the beauty of Australia. Shortly after arriving in Australia she found a job as a dress maker, to help provide for her family’s future. She loved her trade and had a special talent for it. She continued working until her husband retired, but even then she never stopped helping family and friends with making this dress or that alteration. Again, it seemed she took pleasure in her work, as she joyfully sang while working. Often when things were not going the right way for one of us, she would to tell us not to overlook the little blessings by reminding us of how happy and content she was the first time my father brought home his first pay. She referred to it as “due lire”, which translated means two bucks or not much but she told us how it made her feel fortunate and lucky nevertheless. At other tough times, her advice was to take life as it comes; eat drink and be merry, and get on with it. I guess this is why the simple home cooked meal for my mother was never really simple, and resembled more of a feast on nearly every occasion. I guess she appreciated how important having and sharing a meal with family and friends was; and it again made her feel fortunate. It was her a way of sharing her good fortune with her family and friends. If anyone tasted her cooking, such as her stuffed squid and mussels in tomato sauce, you’d know why no one in our family suffered from malnutrition. Whether it was teaching her grandchildren to cook, sowing for them or sharing with them her Italian lullabies, rhythms and riddles (which she loved) everything she did as a grandmother was special to them, as they say she taught them to be like her, which they can use for the rest of their lives. Her grandchildren also say she was not only a Nonna to them, but was also like a mother. When they were sick she looked after them. But unfortunately this made them want to be sick more often so they could spend more time with Nonna. She took great delight in each of her grandchildren, Katherine, Frank, Santos and Christian; and in the last couple of years was blessed to see and enjoy her great grandson Orlando. My mother’s humour was cheeky and mischievous at times. Many of her antics still make the family laugh and can’t be repeated here. There is one story however of a wine tasting trip the family took to the Hunter Valley one year, which we will never forget. It seemed my mother and her sister Maria (tough as nails as they were at the time), thought the wine was too good to taste and spit out. So they did what any true Italian would do, they drank and laughed, drank and laughed and yelled for more sparkling wine before waking up next day with a head ach and wondering why. Whilst enjoying a close friendship with many people of her own heritage, my mother loved mixing with the broader community, often with embarrassing and unexpected funny outcomes. For example, I’m told one day whilst shopping with my father she saw a promotion for what she thought were chocolates. She asked my father to grab a handful of them for Santos, her then youngest grandchild. When she gave the little silver satchels to her daughter to give to her son and was told that those packets contained not chocolates but certain rubber things in packets, she looked at her husband and they broke out in laughter, somewhat embarrassed. Language was no barrier to her to making friends and enjoying things. We were always left in fits of laughter when she would tell us she watched a TV program, such as Days of Our Lives, and while she knew the names of each character she completely made up the story line and gave each character a funny nickname, as they used to do in Italy when she was growing up. As a friend and neighbour her philosophy was again simple but so wise. When we went to her with a gripe about someone or something, she would say “leva manne” which literally translates to “take your hands off” or leave it alone. She would tell us that the person who stops one argument stops a thousand. My mother loved having people nearby and made friends easily. I remember when I was young we’d often go on picnics to the beach with family and friends virtually every weekend. It’s amazing how you could fit 20 people, and not to mention so much food, under a small rocky shelter at Balmoral Beach. Walking down the street in Leichhardt with mum, on a trip that should only have taken 10 minutes, often took at least half an hour, as she stopped to briefly say hello to friends she’d bump into along the way. However when her dear husband went out and did the same thing, she would worry about him until she heard him enter the home. Then in typical Italian style she would chastise him for being out so long and making her worry about him. Either he never got the message or he loved being missed by my mother. Unfortunately after 46 years of marriage her heart was broken when her dear husband died in 1998. But for the next twelve years she pushed on to continue to love, support and comfort her family through all the good times and the tough times, right to the end. Whilst her body started to fail her, suffering from chronic arthritis and a heart condition, which in the end became too much for her, she lived for the best part of the last 7 years of her life independently in her own home in Leichhardt, still offering a feast to any family member that dropped in. Fortunately her mind to the very end was amazing for someone her age. Whilst physically she slowed down, thanks to God her ability to reminisce, give friendly advice and laugh remained. I remember a few months ago, going to visit her in hospital after a fall that kept her off her feet for at least a month. I saw her walking with her frame searching for a nurse to help not her but one of her elderly room mates who could not help herself, even though at the time wondering off on her own posed a great risk to my mother. There are many stories, much fun and laughter that could be told about my mother; but my mother will always be remembered for her laughter and song, and for the priceless and irreplaceable love and support that she gave to her family and friends. My mother showed us that what is really important in life is to appreciate the things you have, especially the simple things, like the food on the table, the clothes on your back and the precious moments you share with family and friends. The things that today we often take for granted. No doubt she is already reunited with her loving husband, and previously departed much loved family and friends in Heaven. Free of the ailments that she carried for most of the latter part of her life. I have no doubt she will be cooking up a storm, making some lovely clothes and having a good old time in Heaven, whilst keeping an eye and praying for us down here. Dear Mum, may you look down on us and know that you are and will be sorely missed and you will always be in our hearts. The tears we shed are not because of the life that you lived, but because of the life that you blessed us with and we will miss so much with your passing.