The life lessons I learned from Isabella Cortese were unintended. Her words were born of humility, not pretentiousness. On her winter vacations in Florida, we girls spent memorable time talking, cooking and laughing. With humor and a zest for living, my dear mother-in law taught me about the things she valued most: family, food, faith and of course, fun.
I hate long phone messages. My brain races to scream out. “Get to the point, already!” My one exception was her weekly long-distance call with the salutation, “Ciao, Bella.” In an eclectic mix of English and Italian, she delivered her monologue of family happenings. Just before the answering machine ran out of time, the same final words recorded. “This isa Mama Cortese…froma New York.”
Lesson #1: When you announce the news in spectacular detail, always identify yourself as the reporter.
After hours of deliberation, I decided to wear the white, silk dress, the most expensive in my closet. With coifed hair and perfect make-up, I calmed my nerves, ready to meet my soon-to-be in-laws. When the door opened, I stepped across the threshold and dropped my lacy slip onto the floor. Ignoring the lingerie draped around my ankles, Mama C kissed my reddened cheeks and welcomed me to the Cortese clan. “Justa step out—you no needa it anyway!”
Lesson #2: When your foundation tumbles, reach out to your family for support.
Mama C’s two youngest sons stole wedding decorations in a clandestine operation. I cheered them on and hid the large flower arrangement in the trunk of the getaway car. At the airport the next day, I gave the wilted flowers to their mother as a joke. Before I could relay the story, she embraced me and said, “You are sucha sweeta gal.” The dead flowers accompanied her on the flight back to NYC and remained at her house in a place of honor for an entire month.
Lesson #3: When you are an accomplice in a crime, always ditch the evidence to an innocent bystander.
Shopping trips with Mama C were always an adventure. Her favorite store was the Dollar Tree. Amazed that one could actually purchase an item of value for $1, she begged me to take her there. Browsing around the store, she picked up a ceramic trinket and inquired, “Scusa me, how mucha is this?” The impatient salesgirl answered, “One dollar.” After a few moments, with a box of Q-tips in hand, another question, “Scusa me, how mucha is this?” with the same reply, “ONE DOLLAR!” After several more “Scusa’s” the irate woman yelled, “Can’t you read the sign? Everything’s a dollar!!!” The next evening, Round 2.
Lesson #4: When you recognize value in an object, buy it. Good bargains are hard to find.
Her love for the sea certainly stemmed from childhood memories of the family summerhouse in Bisceglia, Italy. Mama C told me that her daily walks along Jacksonville Beach reminded her of the rocky shores of the azure Adriatic. Even more, she enjoyed “frutta di mare” and taught me how to cook whatever seafood her son Mario might catch surf fishing. Her fish head stew was my favorite and she shared her savory recipe: onions, garlic, tomatoes, olive oil and “Usa the pesce fresca.” Somehow when I cooked it, it didn’t taste the same.
Lesson #5: When you cook fish head stew, remember to clean the gills: sand is NOT one the ingredients listed!
The subdued black, brown and tan hues of her New York wardrobe were forgone when Mama C visited Florida. She bought bright-colored resort wear for her vacations down south. When returning to the Big Apple, she invariably packed up her crimson, canary and lime flowered outfits and left them behind for the next trip. She shocked the Yankee relatives when she sashayed in a scarlet sequined above-the-knee frock at our wedding. “Hey, I’ma in Florida now!”
Lesson #6: When in Rome, do as the Romans do.
Lesson #7: When you look that good at 75….flaunt it!
Mama C always made me feel special. I think she considered her three daughters-in-law the daughters she never had and she generously showered us with her love. The first time I met the family was at her granddaughter’s wedding –the first Maria and Anthony, not the second Anthony and Maria. (I quickly learned that either of these names was a safe bet if I forgot the oodles of paisani. I slipped off my 5 inch gold sandals during the dinner reception, and realized that I couldn’t put them back on. So I padded onto the dance floor in bare feet to the chagrin of the guests. Undaunted, Mama C proudly introduced me to the entire clan with a small apology, “This isa Lucia. She’s from Florida and she does hava shoes!”
Lesson #8: Be proud, Barefoot Contessa. If God wanted us to wear shoes, we would be born wearing Nikes.
The death of her dearly beloved Tony brought unbelievable sadness to Mama C. Her lifelong partner, love of her life and constant companion was gone. She recanted to me the vivid tales of when they met, their journey to America, birth of three dear sons, building a life in strange new world. Her failed desire to bear a daughter forced her youngest son to wear dresses and long tresses, thus “No Maria. I geta Mario instead.” (Yeah!) She loved her family unconditionally, and la famiglia gave that deepest affection in return.
Lesson #9: Life is short; eat dessert first.
Lesson #10: There is Faith, Hope and Love; but the greatest is Love.
Though a diminutive Italian mother-in-law, Mama C was the antithesis of Marie Barone, Raymond’s mama. The lessons I learned from her are innumerable and go far beyond this playful list. Knowing her keen wit, I thought that she would appreciate my humorous reflection rather than a sad eulogy. I am truly blessed to have had this amazing sage in my life. I look forward to the incoming voice on the answering machine, “Ciao, Bella….This isa Mama Cortese, froma Heaven.”
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Living my personal mission statement, “Each One, Teach One,” my greatest blessing is being the mother of two, grandmother of three and a lifelong educator. A graduate of UF and UNF, I am the former principal of St. Paul’s Catholic School in Jacksonville Beach, Florida and executive director of Tree Hill Nature Center in Jacksonville.
Since retirement my avocation is now my vocation – freelance writing. The technical writing of past professional life evolved into more creative genres of poetry, short fiction and memoir. My goal is to invoke the entire spectrum of human emotions in my reader: longing to laughter, pain to promise, despair to discernment.
