To be restless fire

Originally posted on The World Beyond on July 11th, 2019

Stockholm, July 11th 2019

Today my grandmother Angela -mother of my mother- left us. Being far away from my family and my hometown makes it a little difficult to get a proper emotional reaction to the fact. I decided to use the medium of writing to process what happened.

I will not be able to attend the funeral in Rome, so I want to get my chance to remember Angela properly. The last time I saw her, in June, it took a while to her to recognize me. The recent relocation wasn’t easy for her to understand so I showed her pictures of Stockholm and I think that was the moment when she finally realized why I wasn’t visiting her place anymore since some months. I am relieved to know that a few days later she told my mother to be at peace with my decision.

Born on Feb 20th 1920 in a small village not too far from Naples in Italy, Angela Vermiglio lived 99 years, 4 months and 22 days, being sharp and self sufficent until 97/98 years old.

She was born right after the end of World War 1 in an extremely poor family, diagnosed with some kind of mortal disease which she successfully overcame growing strong and proving right away her love for life.
Angela managed to relocate herself to Rome, get married, get a house, survive World War 2 and a totalitarian government, procreate and outlive her husband by 21 years preventing any tyrant, personal loss, pain or sickness to make her heart stop beating, it happened only today at HER conditions, only when she was too tired to make it pump blood. In her life, my grandma bowed only to her Lord…maybe.
I don’t even know how to explain how much I admire such consistency and strength. Her bold and unapologetic lifestyle set a high moral standard between the females of my family…and a high standard for women between the household’s men, including me.

When I picture her handling knives and slicing up rabbit, chicken, eel and so on and so forth I clearly see how much she liked being in charge and providing for her loved ones in archetypal ways.
When the family was gathered for a festivity, she NEVER left the kitchen, she kept cooking until there was no food left to prepare. Only when all the bellies were full she would join the rest of us, savoring the privileged status of control earned behind the stove.

Such a personality wasn’t easy to bear for the rest of the family as she grew older but I’ve always been too young to be seriously affected by it, so it still makes me laugh to think how little she cared for other people’s opinion.

Where others have often retreated, she kept blowing on this perpetual ember inside herself to keep the flame alive, whether it was small or large. She taught me to be restless fire until this Earth takes me.
Until the last breath.

M

Keep the Flame

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