Dear Zee-Zee,  

I didn’t get to say goodbye the day you departed from this world. A brief text broke the news. We knew your health was on the decline, so it wasn’t unexpected. 

I remember seeing you weeks before while you were lying in a hospital bed, mumbling in Italian with your eyes barely open. Mom played with your hair and held your hand, trying to soothe you.  

She told me you were praying to God for release, asking when the suffering would end. I could only imagine the immense pain you were in. There’s got to be some saving grace in knowing that you finally joined God. You were always a religious woman; you dedicated your life to the church and built a community around it with others like yourself. I’d like to believe that above the clouds, everyone can understand you clearly without having to place pieces of words together. But I’ll miss hearing your broken English, and those soft kisses you used to plant on my cheeks. 

The stories of your participation in church bounced around the funeral and every conversation after your passing. I also heard new tales regarding your and Nonna’s travel from Italy to America. I can’t imagine the fear you experienced, abandoning everything you grew up around and starting anew somewhere else. Hearing so much about you in the last few weeks reminds me that I’ll never have the chance to ask you about it all firsthand.   

Like the old saying goes, you never know how much you truly care about someone until they are gone. With each death that comes into my life, that realization strikes me even more.  

The day of your funeral was somber despite the sunny weather. I approached the open casket beside my mother, a mix of sadness and nausea swirling around in my gut. They dressed you in golden attire and did your makeup perfectly. You looked angelic, as if you were ready to meet God firsthand. Wanted to look your best for the Big Guy, huh, Zee-Zee?   

Both familiar and unknown faces gathered at your funeral to pay their respects. It felt reassuring seeing how loved you were in this lifetime. Everyone said that you brought the community together and weren’t one to be messed with. Knowing Nonna and the other women in our family, I’d say it’s fitting to hear that you were a no-bullshit type of person.   

The rest of the service went by beautifully, and everyone went to lunch at a popular Italian spot. Nonna, as always, arranged everything wonderfully and ensured everyone enjoyed themselves despite the unfortunate reason for our gathering.   

I recall the times you and Nonna fought, as all sisters do, but deep down, everyone knew that she truly loved you. She wasn’t her usual boisterous self. She was quiet and composed, shedding tears through the service prior to lunch. It was the saddest I’ve ever seen her. She’s really going to miss you, along with everyone else.  

Zee-Zee, you were an incredible woman and a kind soul. I feel deep sorrow for the hardship you carried in your final days. I truly hope you’re happy now, up in Heaven. And if you can, say hi to our other relatives and past pets. I’m sure they’ll all welcome you with open arms. Rest in eternal peace.  

Love always, 
Rowan  

Editor: Shannon Hensley