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Photograph courtesy of Cookie-Curci-Wright
The Nonnas and the Papas: Family memories like Grandpa Salvatore and Grandma Isolina's wedding day in 1914 inspired many of the author's stories.
Remember When
Christmas Coffee with Nonna
By Cookie Curci-Wright
There are times in our lives when we think all that's good or exciting has passed us by--that we may have missed out on that one big chance or golden opportunity that would have changed our lives for the better.
That's how I felt the day I paid my Grandma Isolina a long overdue visit.
Nonna was well into her 90s when her gentle wisdom and intuitive powers helped redirect my life. I learned from her that we all have the capability to restart our lives or to help others renew their own.
It was Christmastime and all around me people were busily anticipating the holiday season. Everywhere I looked, I saw happy couples walking arm-and-arm, joyfully preparing for the holidays.
As for myself, I was in no mood for celebration. At age 44, I'd lost my job, and was facing the fact that none of my lifelong plans and dreams had materialized. That year, I firmly decided not to celebrate Christmas.
For over 25 years, I'd put my dreams of becoming a writer on hold while I worked for more lucrative pay as a receptionist. My job offered little creative outlet, but more importantly, it kept the bills paid. And now it was gone. I'd also put off getting married, so now here I was in my mid-40s, without a job, and without a Mr. Right.
I was deep in the doldrums that holiday season when my phone rang. It was an unexpected call from my Nonna Isolina, asking me to spend the holiday with her.
As a lot of things I'd planned, but never found time to do, visiting Nonna was high on the list. But the longer I put it off the harder it was to do.
I wanted to remember Nonna as she once was--a robust, happy-go-lucky woman who inspired me with her deep beliefs and intrigued me with her tales of the old country. More importantly, I wanted nonna to remember me as I used to be--young and full of ambitious dreams.
I was painfully aware that none of the plans we'd made for my life were going to come true. I guess I was afraid of seeing the disappointment in Nonna's eyes. Nevertheless, I knew in my heart I couldn't refuse her invitation; that night I drove to Nonna's house, back to the home of my childhood, to its cracks and creaks and charm.
What would my visit bring?
I had to knock several time before nonna finally came to the door. Standing all alone in the doorway, she appeared more fragile than I remembered, but her eyes still twinkled with that same vibrant warmth of welcome.
"Come in, Bella mia," she said, using her best broken English. The words mean "My beautiful," and nonna was the only one who could still make me feel beautiful.
Nonna led me down the hall to her cozy, familiar kitchen. She sat me in grandpa's big empty armchair at the head of the table. I remembered that table well, and all the many wonderful family suppers we'd enjoyed there on Sundays and holidays.
I was greeted by the sweet smell of anise cookies baking in the oven and the aroma from Nonna's shiny coffee pot. Mingled with the fresh scent of evergreen it painted a vivid picture of Christmases past. Assembled on the wall was a collection of baby pictures and childhood milestones. Family snapshots filled her walls.
Nonna's aged cat, Chulet, still trailed behind her as she shuffled from room to room. I remembered the old cat and how it was once a spry young kitten chasing butterflies that thronged to Nonna's vegetable garden. Nonna and I were younger then, too.
In the corner of the room stood a spindly Christmas tree, shimmering with 75 years of collected ornaments. Glowing beneath the evergreen was Nonna's beloved--albeit timeworn--nativity scene. Each of her grandchildren were responsible for every chip and nick on the tattered set of figurines. But somehow they had managed to retain their original charm and were as beguiling to me now as the very first day she'd placed them under the tree.
Before I knew it, I was captivated by Nonna's old-world charm. Old hopes and dreams were suddenly resurrected, along with my faith in the Christmas spirit.
Nonna's hands trembled as she poured me a cup of her strong coffee. Before long we were dunking anise cookies and sipping coffee, just as we'd done so many years before. Chatting away like school girls, once again the sound of our laughter filled her kitchen. The years seemed to melt away. We talked for hours. Again, grandma's persistent words of encouragement had given me new inspiration.
I spent that Christmas Eve talking long into the night with nonna.She predicted that I'd soon find a new job as a writer and with a little more patience and faith in myself, I'd also find my Mr. Right.I snickered at Nonna's predictions. I reminded her that I was over 40 now and not the young, impressionable girl who used to sit upon her knee.
Nonna's brow furrowed as her jaw set firmly into a frown. A moment later she was cradling me in her fragile arms, cajoling me, while at the same time tenderly scolding me for not having faith--faith in her predictions and faith in myself.
"Bella mia," she said, "You're not listening with your heart. How can you be successful if you don't believe in yourself?"
She was right, of course. I had to learn to believe in life again, and more importantly in myself. I took Nonna's advice and spent all that week listening and believing. I took notes as she told and retold stories of her life in the old country, of her family histories and humorous anecdotes of her arrival in America. As I recorded page after page of Nonna's colorful memories, the familiar aroma of strong coffee, simmering on the stove, filled the air in her tiny kitchen.
That year nonna convinced me to return home and upon her urgings I continued writing. I submitted some of my stories to The Willow Glen Resident, then a fledgling newspaper. My nostalgic family stories were so well received by the editor, I was offered an ongoing column.
That was 12 years ago and I've been writing my "Remember When" column ever since. I've also sold numerous stories to The Chicken Soup For the Soul books, as well as other national publications, including books, newspapers and magazines.
Just as my insightful nonna had predicted, my Christmas wishes all came true. Believing in myself brought a new career, as well as a new man in my life. I found my Mr. Right and we were married that following year.
Sadly, my nonna wasn't here to see all of her predictions come true, But, somehow, I know on that last Christmas visit together, that she knew, in her infinite wisdom, exactly what the future held in store for me and that she will always be an important and indelible part of my life.
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Willow Glen, California Since 1992
