Mother’s Day by Josephine B. Pasquarello

Today is “Mother’s Day”. It is my favorite day to celebrate with my Mother. She died forty-five years ago; but this is still the day she and I celebrate her life along with all her achievements as a mother of twelve children, twenty eight grandchildren and too many to count great-grandchildren. As for myself, my daughter and two granddaughters we are blessed to have her blood running through our veins.

On Mother’s Day I always go to Holy Cross Cemetery to visit with my Mother. It is my way of expressing to her that there was and never again will be a mother as loving as she.

Romania Pasuarello was an immigrant at the age of five from Pescara, Italy, to Philadelphia in 1912. Only had six years of schooling. Wasn’t even five feet tall and always looked nine months pregnant. She was so small in stature that I would sometimes call here “pip squeak”. She would give me a warm smile and then always reply with, “I might be small; but I am powerful because of the blessings God has given me”.

Never had fame or much money. Still spoke with an Italian accent when she died at the age of sixty-six. But what she did have was wealth like no other mother on this earth. Her wealth was measured in the amount of love she had for her family and they for her. I thank her every Mother’s Day and many other days for being my Mother. I thank God that he blessed me with her and allowed me that special time we had on this earth together.

As I walk toward the family plot to wish her a very “Happy Mother’s Day” I suddenly arrive in front of a large marble stone. It is over five feet high. Our surname, Pasquarello, is carved on the front. It is the stone my Mother chose when my Father passed away. I lay a large bouquet of yellow roses, her favorite flower, with baby breath blossoms against the headstone. I say a prayer to “Our Blessed Mother” for my Mother’s soul. I tell my Mother everything that is going on with me. I stand there in stillness. Tears are streaming down my cheeks. I am filled with so much emotion as I remember my Mother and our life together.

My last thought to her each and every time is “Mom I know you are happy because you are with my Father, your true love in life and death”.

Happy Mother’s Day!

I love you.

Your number ten,

Josephine B. Pasquarello

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