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November 26, 2023
Services
Friends may visit with the family on Friday, December 1, 2023, from 4:00 – 7:15PM at the Vander May Wayne Colonial Funeral Home, 567 Ratzer Road, Wayne, NJ.
A Funeral will immediately follow visitation and begin at 7:15PM, followed by an opportunity for family and friends to share memories. A private burial will take place at NNJ Veterans Memorial Cemetery in Sparta where she will be interred alongside her husband, Harold.
Aurora Smith, age 99, of Wayne passed Sunday, November 26, 2023, surrounded and comforted by family.
She is survived by her children: son, Cliff Smith of Escondido, CA; daughter, Louise (nee Smith) and her husband Mark Aceino of Butler, NJ and Louise’s three daughters Lindsay, Jackie, & Melanie and their husbands Yaron, Mike, and Kevin respectively, and great-grandchildren Aiden & Becca (Lindsay & Yaron), and Phoebe (Mel & Kev); son, Steve and his wife Irene of Sackets Harbor, NY and their children Steve & Kelly; and son David and his wife Emily of Orlando, FL, and their two children, Justin & Dani and Justin’s wife Emely and two more great-grandchildren, Keanu & Harold (Justin & Emely).
In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to Children of Fallen Patriots. Children of Fallen Patriots provides college scholarships and educational counseling to military children who have lost a parent in the line of duty. Donations can be made online at Donate to CFP Donation Page (fallenpatriots.org) or by mail, with a note indicating the donation is “in honor of Aurora Smith” and addressed to:
Children of Fallen Patriots
1818 Library Street
Suite 500
Reston, VA 20190
Total: $
Tax ID – EIN#: 47-0902295
Mom’s “Dash”
Summing up 99 years of such a wonderful life is difficult, but if you’ve got some time and want to get to know our Mom a little better, grab a drink, perhaps some tissues and settle in.
Mom’s world began and ended with Family. Her parents, Orazio and Louise Zanin (nee Razzolini) – whom she loved dearly, were immigrants to the US from Northern Italy. Following his Service as an artilleryman in the Italian Army during WWI, the already engaged Orazio, met Louise. They fell in love, got married and shortly thereafter, immigrated to the US thru Canada, settling in Buffalo, New York. (We suspect there were multiple reasons for their immigration and assume escaping the wrath of Grandpa’s spurned fiancé was among them… but that remains uncorroborated). Grandpa came from a large Family, many of whom had already immigrated and settled between Hamilton in Canada and across the border in Buffalo, NY.
In Buffalo, they shared a home with Grandma’s sister and her Family, where they raised four children of their own: twins Armando and Adriana; our Mom, Aurora; and their younger brother, Amerigo whom we affectionately called “Uncle Butch”.
She would fondly share stories of her childhood and life growing up in Buffalo, surrounded by extended Family and close friends. For us it was always a bit confusing as she often referred to multiple people as “Zia & Zio”. As kids, we assumed they were their given names and that it odd she knew so many people with the same names. Only later did we learn “Zia & Zio” were just Italian for Aunt & Uncle. (We were kids, so stop your judging!)
Mom adored her parents (that’s a call back to the first paragraph). Whenever she spoke of them, she beamed. To her, Grandpa, was a “renaissance man,” willing and able to do or try anything and Grandma the epitome of what a wife and Mom should be – caring, nurturing and always there for her family (this is called foreshadowing).
As a young girl, growing up during prohibition and the depression, she and her family did whatever was necessary to get by. Grandpa held multiple jobs, doing anything and everything to support them. At one point he distilled his own liquor and used their family car to transport and deliver it to local speakeasies. On one such journey, my Mom rode along with the barrels hidden under a blanket on which she was seated. Like many we suppose, he ultimately got caught and had to spend a little time “in college” … or at least that was the euphemism Mom used when she told us the story.
Like her Dad, Mom saw herself as “fearless,” willing to try anything. She loved to play sports and, despite her 5’ 4” frame, basketball was her favorite. Nevertheless, she grew up in a time where there were things that ladies just didn’t do. While she desperately wanted to get and learn how to ride a bike, Grandpa thought it neither appropriate, nor “ladylike” and chose not to allow it. Despite her disappointment, Mom abided.
A recurring theme in Mom’s childhood stories was that she “never got in trouble”. Yet, recognizing the difficulty the four of us had (have?) avoiding it, we often wondered whether she was being truthful or just thought that if she said it enough, maybe it would take root in us…it did not. As her siblings adored her, we’ve never managed to gather any substantive proof to the contrary.
Though she never really spoke much about her scholastic abilities, it was evident she was more than just a pretty face. She was a voracious reader and could carry on conversations about most topics. While she wanted to go to college, the attack on Pearl Harbor changed her plans as she instead entered the workforce. She took a job with National Gypsum in Buffalo, which manufactured building supplies and other materials to support the war effort. She very much enjoyed the opportunity to “spread her wings,” earning a paycheck to help at home, and connecting with co-workers and others outside home and school.
As a young, working woman, she continued living at home. Although she met and dated several eligible men, a few of whom proposed to her, none quite caught her fancy enough for her to commit. In 1957, while on a vacation in the Poconos at the Chestnut Lodge, she met our Dad who had recently left the Army following his service in the war. Describing how they met, Dad made it clear that he was immediately smitten, proposing to her on their first date! While she initially deferred, Dad persisted and subsequently won her over. They were married on November 8th, 1958, in Buffalo, New York and moved to Hoboken, NJ to start their life together.
For the next 6 years, they were quite “busy”. Mom gave birth to Cliff in August, 1959; Louise in January, 1961, Steve in March, 1962; and Dave in April, 1964. After Cliff was born, Mom & Dad moved to the North Jersey town of Saddle Brook, buying a small “Cape Cod” home within walking distance of our grammar school. That was where we shared our formative years under our parent’s oversight and, at least for us, remains “home”. There, they provided us with all we needed, each working hard to give us a wonderful childhood.
When we were very young, Mom stayed at home, busy raising the four of us and taking exceptional care of our home. While we were in no way a family “of means,” it never felt that way. Mom stretched every dollar Dad earned to assure we were always fed, clothed, and cared for! She used her cooking skills to make great food (unless it was lentil soup or Liver & onions which our Dad loved… and we did not!), sewing skills to make & repair clothes, curtains, slip covers and just about anything else made of fabric, and about a bazillion bottles of mercurochrome and St Joseph’s aspirin to fix us!
When Dad got laid off in the early 70’s, Mom went back to work, getting a secretarial job at Grand Union, a grocery chain with its headquarters in Elmwood Park, NJ. She worked full time, Monday thru Friday while Dad worked odd jobs, refusing to take unemployment. Between them, they assured we had no wants, parenting us through the 70’s and early 80’s (think crazy long hair… yes, that’s what we said) before we fledged ourselves.
When not working, Mom was a member of the Saddle Brook Women’s Club & a local theater group. She thoroughly enjoyed socializing and entertaining, always conscious to carry and represent herself and our Family well outside the house. She and the other neighborhood Moms would take turns hosting “Coffee Klatches,” sharing the latest about their Families and all that was going on in their lives. She would often invite “company” to our house – whether relatives, neighbors, or friends… again. Every visit was punctuated with good conversation, laughter, and some sort of Entenmann’s cake.
She loved to shop though, given our limited income, “shopping ≠ buying”. And while shopping, particularly when we were young, she’d always bring (drag?) the four of us with her. While Louise quickly learned to love it, the three boys quickly learned to dread these “outings”. (Editorial comment: it always seemed as though we just wandered around aimlessly for hours, in and out of every store, looking at everything and coming away with nothing… still a mystery to at least three of us!)
While Dad was clearly more imposing, Mom was no shrinking violet when it came to meting out punishment. Again, Louise was rarely in her crosshairs, the boys seemed to attract it. Her “go to” implement was the “wooden spoon,” (yes, that really was a thing). While she had a very long fuse, as she had much more patience than most – there was indeed a limit. She broke many a spoon raising us and, despite how it may sound – it was necessary and helped shape us into who we are today. That said, there were indeed times when even the spoon wasn’t enough, and she would throw her trump card, “what until your father gets home!” Those days / nights never ended well. (Again, at least for the boys).
While she was the most caring and adoring parent, grandparent, and great grandparent in the world, she was oddly never an “animal person” nor a fan of “the great outdoors” – the exact opposite of Dad and the four of us (at least with the animals… Louise tended to side with Mom on the outdoors stuff). Yet, she chose to “take one for the team,” letting us have pets and occasionally even agreeing to go camping – though she was clearly a fish out of water on those occasions!
While she drove (and was proud of it), she hated driving on highways, more often than not, choosing “to take the back roads”. Doing so would invariably turn a :20-minute drive into an hour. Now, she was not keen on directions which, upon reflection, is quite at odds with “taking the back way”. So, what should have taken an hour, was now a solid hour and a half. (But hey, at least we had AM Radio!)
She was incredibly proud of her Italian heritage, and, to our benefit, it reflected in her cooking. Her lasagna was and remains the best we’ve ever had – and we’ll fight you if you think differently. She would make sauce every few weeks, cooking it all day in a huge pot on the stove. The smell of her sauce wafting through the house would invariably draw us to the kitchen where we’d wait anxiously for it to finish. We’d be standing by with Italian bread, occasionally dipping bread into the pot when she wasn’t looking. Then, after she poured it into containers to freeze, we’d attack the pot like hungry vultures!
Perry Como was far and away her favorite singer – she loved dancing with my Dad to his music. It’s that last bit, that is perhaps what we will remember most. The enduring love affair between them to which we were treated with front row seats. While, like every couple, they had their moments – the time they spent together dancing (and it was much more often than you may think), was pure romance. The way they looked at each other, held each other, and danced made it clear – there was nowhere else in the world they would rather be in those moments. And that is how we will remember them. Together, dancing in heaven, forever.
Bonus material - a few more personal stories:
Cliff: My memories of mom are many with some more prominent than others. I too was attracted to the kitchen and learned MANY different recipes from Mom and her family, particularly the Italian ones that to this day have stayed with me. While keeping true to the original, I blended them with my own style, all firmly based upon mom’s original family taught, tried and true go-to Italian dishes. The many memories of what was for dinner or even more so, what’s in the pot, were paramount as growing children and young adults. Mom’s work with Grand Union provided our growing family with the added benefit and unforeseen bounty of various large roasts and meats provided to her because of her job as the assistant to the National Meat Buyer at Grand Union. Growing up we were fortunate to have so much protein, great for boys in sports, that we would literally take bags of meats and deliver them to our neighbors who also had young growing families…take this bag to Mrs. Linkletter, take this bag to Mrs. Puzio, and take this bag to Mrs. Evans, all of whom loved her special perk. Both within our family and our neighbors’, everyone’s kids participated in many different sports, which required a great deal of calories to support. Her generosity towards them helped forge healthy kids and strong bodies all around our immediate neighborhood, none of which was fully recognized until years later.
Mom also had a particular fondness for our childhood pet cats and music. Cats, known for kindness and softness, provided mom with moments of sheer terror as they would intertwine between her legs while she cooked over the stove or peeled vegetables in the sink. As we watched late afternoon episodes of Batman, hoping for a CAT-woman villain, along with other shows of that era, Mom would suddenly let out a blood curdling scream from the kitchen as if she burned or cut herself badly. Alas, it was just the cat merely showing love to be quickly followed by, “get this “darn” cat out of here…I hate it!”
Musically, both mom and dad were from a different era where melody and crooners were the music of their day. I on the other hand was into anything but. From the soul pounding blues stylings of Led Zepplin to the Rolling Stones, to the R&B Funk bands of the day, the only music she could stand was Steely Dan, a staple of my listening library. All of these were played fiercely loud by a Soundsystem that literally dimmed the house lights due to the power they consumed and the volumes at which they were played. Ahh large stereo systems…nothing like it! A particular song that became one of moms’ favorites was Eric Clapton’s, Lay Down Sally, that mom just adored. Oh, this is a nice song she would say, and come time for the chorus, “Lay Down Sally” became “Way Down South”, to which we would look at her proudly singing along while literally changing the lyrics completely unaware of the true words. Hey, Mom was singing, so why ruin things…sing on Mom!
Losing her, as one could imagine, is not easy, nor should it be. We were a loving family who cared greatly for each other and Mom’s support in whatever we were doing was always proud, loud, and evident. Rest easy Mom, you were one of the best to ever own the title and wear the crown.
Wease: As Mom's only daughter I was blessed to have such an extraordinary woman as my Mom and roll model. Mom was strong, kind, fun, creative and loving. Her love and pride in her family was ever at the forefront. She delighted in her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. No matter what kind of day she might be having her eyes would shine brightly when she was around them. My girls especially had the privilege to spend a lot of time with her and benefit from her life lessons of what family means and so much more. Mom was a lady to her core. She always made an effort to primp and present herself as a lady should. Some might think that old-fashioned but for Mom it was simply who she was, and she was admired by all for that quality. Mom was very creative and would tell us that her childhood dream was to become an actress. Although that particular dream wasn't fulfilled, she joined a local drama club in Saddle Brook and enjoyed it immensely. Mom was also an incredible self-taught seamstress. She made me the most beautiful dresses growing up and even sewed her own wedding dress. She would tell us the story of how her Dad helped her cut out the pattern on their huge dining room table. Of course, it was stunning, and Mom looked incredible. How lucky and blessed I was to have such a special lady as my role model. I will love you forever Mom.
Steve: Once, when I was 5, my Mom took an overnight trip with her brothers to visit my Aunt Adriana. This was quite out of the ordinary for my Mom, as I don’t ever recall a time before or since that she traveled anywhere without my Dad or us, overnight. Nevertheless, she’d arranged for a neighborhood girl to babysit the four of us while my Dad was at work. That first day, Cliff was teaching me to ride my bike without training wheels in the backyard. Together we decided I was ready for a road test, so we moved to the front yard, and he helped launch me down the driveway and into the street in front of the house. It was awesome and I headed down the street on my own. After briefly stopping to see if my friend was home (he wasn’t), I doubled back towards my house without first checking my 6. Lying on the road, under the front end of a car, I realized I may have gotten ahead of myself. While I don’t know the exact chain of events surrounding the notification of my Mom – I just know she got back home as quickly as she could and made my Dad take her to the hospital. Seeing her in my room after the day’s event was perhaps the most welcome and reassuring sight of my life. From that point on, within what the hospital would permit and afterwards through my recovery -- my Mom (and Dad) was there to care for me, fight for me and nurse me through about a 6 month recovery. She’s always been there for my siblings and I – and I know somehow, she will be with us always. Love you forever, Mom. Get the sauce started, we’ll bring the Italian bread.
Dave: Fighting back the tears as I write this and thinking about all the memories I have of my Mom is not easy. Everything my brothers and sisters have shared about Mom sums up how much we loved her. I wish I had called more or visited more but it's too late. I'm so sorry mom, I will always remember you and love you and think of you forever. Now go dance with Dad, ya hear?!!
If you would like to send a private condolence directly to the family use this condolence section.
Friends may visit with the family on Friday, December 1, 2023, from 4:00 – 7:15PM at the Vander May Wayne Colonial Funeral Home, 567 Ratzer Road, Wayne, NJ.
A Funeral will immediately follow visitation and begin at 7:15PM, followed by an opportunity for family and friends to share memories. A private burial will take place at NNJ Veterans Memorial Cemetery in Sparta where she will be interred alongside her husband, Harold.
November 26, 2023
Services
Friends may visit with the family on Friday, December 1, 2023, from 4:00 – 7:15PM at the Vander May Wayne Colonial Funeral Home, 567 Ratzer Road, Wayne, NJ.
A Funeral will immediately follow visitation and begin at 7:15PM, followed by an opportunity for family and friends to share memories. A private burial will take place at NNJ Veterans Memorial Cemetery in Sparta where she will be interred alongside her husband, Harold.
Aurora Smith, age 99, of Wayne passed Sunday, November 26, 2023, surrounded and comforted by family.
She is survived by her children: son, Cliff Smith of Escondido, CA; daughter, Louise (nee Smith) and her husband Mark Aceino of Butler, NJ and Louise’s three daughters Lindsay, Jackie, & Melanie and their husbands Yaron, Mike, and Kevin respectively, and great-grandchildren Aiden & Becca (Lindsay & Yaron), and Phoebe (Mel & Kev); son, Steve and his wife Irene of Sackets Harbor, NY and their children Steve & Kelly; and son David and his wife Emily of Orlando, FL, and their two children, Justin & Dani and Justin’s wife Emely and two more great-grandchildren, Keanu & Harold (Justin & Emely).
In lieu of flowers, please consider donating to Children of Fallen Patriots. Children of Fallen Patriots provides college scholarships and educational counseling to military children who have lost a parent in the line of duty. Donations can be made online at Donate to CFP Donation Page (fallenpatriots.org) or by mail, with a note indicating the donation is “in honor of Aurora Smith” and addressed to:
Children of Fallen Patriots
1818 Library Street
Suite 500
Reston, VA 20190
Total: $
Tax ID – EIN#: 47-0902295
Mom’s “Dash”
Summing up 99 years of such a wonderful life is difficult, but if you’ve got some time and want to get to know our Mom a little better, grab a drink, perhaps some tissues and settle in.
Mom’s world began and ended with Family. Her parents, Orazio and Louise Zanin (nee Razzolini) – whom she loved dearly, were immigrants to the US from Northern Italy. Following his Service as an artilleryman in the Italian Army during WWI, the already engaged Orazio, met Louise. They fell in love, got married and shortly thereafter, immigrated to the US thru Canada, settling in Buffalo, New York. (We suspect there were multiple reasons for their immigration and assume escaping the wrath of Grandpa’s spurned fiancé was among them… but that remains uncorroborated). Grandpa came from a large Family, many of whom had already immigrated and settled between Hamilton in Canada and across the border in Buffalo, NY.
In Buffalo, they shared a home with Grandma’s sister and her Family, where they raised four children of their own: twins Armando and Adriana; our Mom, Aurora; and their younger brother, Amerigo whom we affectionately called “Uncle Butch”.
She would fondly share stories of her childhood and life growing up in Buffalo, surrounded by extended Family and close friends. For us it was always a bit confusing as she often referred to multiple people as “Zia & Zio”. As kids, we assumed they were their given names and that it odd she knew so many people with the same names. Only later did we learn “Zia & Zio” were just Italian for Aunt & Uncle. (We were kids, so stop your judging!)
Mom adored her parents (that’s a call back to the first paragraph). Whenever she spoke of them, she beamed. To her, Grandpa, was a “renaissance man,” willing and able to do or try anything and Grandma the epitome of what a wife and Mom should be – caring, nurturing and always there for her family (this is called foreshadowing).
As a young girl, growing up during prohibition and the depression, she and her family did whatever was necessary to get by. Grandpa held multiple jobs, doing anything and everything to support them. At one point he distilled his own liquor and used their family car to transport and deliver it to local speakeasies. On one such journey, my Mom rode along with the barrels hidden under a blanket on which she was seated. Like many we suppose, he ultimately got caught and had to spend a little time “in college” … or at least that was the euphemism Mom used when she told us the story.
Like her Dad, Mom saw herself as “fearless,” willing to try anything. She loved to play sports and, despite her 5’ 4” frame, basketball was her favorite. Nevertheless, she grew up in a time where there were things that ladies just didn’t do. While she desperately wanted to get and learn how to ride a bike, Grandpa thought it neither appropriate, nor “ladylike” and chose not to allow it. Despite her disappointment, Mom abided.
A recurring theme in Mom’s childhood stories was that she “never got in trouble”. Yet, recognizing the difficulty the four of us had (have?) avoiding it, we often wondered whether she was being truthful or just thought that if she said it enough, maybe it would take root in us…it did not. As her siblings adored her, we’ve never managed to gather any substantive proof to the contrary.
Though she never really spoke much about her scholastic abilities, it was evident she was more than just a pretty face. She was a voracious reader and could carry on conversations about most topics. While she wanted to go to college, the attack on Pearl Harbor changed her plans as she instead entered the workforce. She took a job with National Gypsum in Buffalo, which manufactured building supplies and other materials to support the war effort. She very much enjoyed the opportunity to “spread her wings,” earning a paycheck to help at home, and connecting with co-workers and others outside home and school.
As a young, working woman, she continued living at home. Although she met and dated several eligible men, a few of whom proposed to her, none quite caught her fancy enough for her to commit. In 1957, while on a vacation in the Poconos at the Chestnut Lodge, she met our Dad who had recently left the Army following his service in the war. Describing how they met, Dad made it clear that he was immediately smitten, proposing to her on their first date! While she initially deferred, Dad persisted and subsequently won her over. They were married on November 8th, 1958, in Buffalo, New York and moved to Hoboken, NJ to start their life together.
For the next 6 years, they were quite “busy”. Mom gave birth to Cliff in August, 1959; Louise in January, 1961, Steve in March, 1962; and Dave in April, 1964. After Cliff was born, Mom & Dad moved to the North Jersey town of Saddle Brook, buying a small “Cape Cod” home within walking distance of our grammar school. That was where we shared our formative years under our parent’s oversight and, at least for us, remains “home”. There, they provided us with all we needed, each working hard to give us a wonderful childhood.
When we were very young, Mom stayed at home, busy raising the four of us and taking exceptional care of our home. While we were in no way a family “of means,” it never felt that way. Mom stretched every dollar Dad earned to assure we were always fed, clothed, and cared for! She used her cooking skills to make great food (unless it was lentil soup or Liver & onions which our Dad loved… and we did not!), sewing skills to make & repair clothes, curtains, slip covers and just about anything else made of fabric, and about a bazillion bottles of mercurochrome and St Joseph’s aspirin to fix us!
When Dad got laid off in the early 70’s, Mom went back to work, getting a secretarial job at Grand Union, a grocery chain with its headquarters in Elmwood Park, NJ. She worked full time, Monday thru Friday while Dad worked odd jobs, refusing to take unemployment. Between them, they assured we had no wants, parenting us through the 70’s and early 80’s (think crazy long hair… yes, that’s what we said) before we fledged ourselves.
When not working, Mom was a member of the Saddle Brook Women’s Club & a local theater group. She thoroughly enjoyed socializing and entertaining, always conscious to carry and represent herself and our Family well outside the house. She and the other neighborhood Moms would take turns hosting “Coffee Klatches,” sharing the latest about their Families and all that was going on in their lives. She would often invite “company” to our house – whether relatives, neighbors, or friends… again. Every visit was punctuated with good conversation, laughter, and some sort of Entenmann’s cake.
She loved to shop though, given our limited income, “shopping ≠ buying”. And while shopping, particularly when we were young, she’d always bring (drag?) the four of us with her. While Louise quickly learned to love it, the three boys quickly learned to dread these “outings”. (Editorial comment: it always seemed as though we just wandered around aimlessly for hours, in and out of every store, looking at everything and coming away with nothing… still a mystery to at least three of us!)
While Dad was clearly more imposing, Mom was no shrinking violet when it came to meting out punishment. Again, Louise was rarely in her crosshairs, the boys seemed to attract it. Her “go to” implement was the “wooden spoon,” (yes, that really was a thing). While she had a very long fuse, as she had much more patience than most – there was indeed a limit. She broke many a spoon raising us and, despite how it may sound – it was necessary and helped shape us into who we are today. That said, there were indeed times when even the spoon wasn’t enough, and she would throw her trump card, “what until your father gets home!” Those days / nights never ended well. (Again, at least for the boys).
While she was the most caring and adoring parent, grandparent, and great grandparent in the world, she was oddly never an “animal person” nor a fan of “the great outdoors” – the exact opposite of Dad and the four of us (at least with the animals… Louise tended to side with Mom on the outdoors stuff). Yet, she chose to “take one for the team,” letting us have pets and occasionally even agreeing to go camping – though she was clearly a fish out of water on those occasions!
While she drove (and was proud of it), she hated driving on highways, more often than not, choosing “to take the back roads”. Doing so would invariably turn a :20-minute drive into an hour. Now, she was not keen on directions which, upon reflection, is quite at odds with “taking the back way”. So, what should have taken an hour, was now a solid hour and a half. (But hey, at least we had AM Radio!)
She was incredibly proud of her Italian heritage, and, to our benefit, it reflected in her cooking. Her lasagna was and remains the best we’ve ever had – and we’ll fight you if you think differently. She would make sauce every few weeks, cooking it all day in a huge pot on the stove. The smell of her sauce wafting through the house would invariably draw us to the kitchen where we’d wait anxiously for it to finish. We’d be standing by with Italian bread, occasionally dipping bread into the pot when she wasn’t looking. Then, after she poured it into containers to freeze, we’d attack the pot like hungry vultures!
Perry Como was far and away her favorite singer – she loved dancing with my Dad to his music. It’s that last bit, that is perhaps what we will remember most. The enduring love affair between them to which we were treated with front row seats. While, like every couple, they had their moments – the time they spent together dancing (and it was much more often than you may think), was pure romance. The way they looked at each other, held each other, and danced made it clear – there was nowhere else in the world they would rather be in those moments. And that is how we will remember them. Together, dancing in heaven, forever.
Bonus material - a few more personal stories:
Cliff: My memories of mom are many with some more prominent than others. I too was attracted to the kitchen and learned MANY different recipes from Mom and her family, particularly the Italian ones that to this day have stayed with me. While keeping true to the original, I blended them with my own style, all firmly based upon mom’s original family taught, tried and true go-to Italian dishes. The many memories of what was for dinner or even more so, what’s in the pot, were paramount as growing children and young adults. Mom’s work with Grand Union provided our growing family with the added benefit and unforeseen bounty of various large roasts and meats provided to her because of her job as the assistant to the National Meat Buyer at Grand Union. Growing up we were fortunate to have so much protein, great for boys in sports, that we would literally take bags of meats and deliver them to our neighbors who also had young growing families…take this bag to Mrs. Linkletter, take this bag to Mrs. Puzio, and take this bag to Mrs. Evans, all of whom loved her special perk. Both within our family and our neighbors’, everyone’s kids participated in many different sports, which required a great deal of calories to support. Her generosity towards them helped forge healthy kids and strong bodies all around our immediate neighborhood, none of which was fully recognized until years later.
Mom also had a particular fondness for our childhood pet cats and music. Cats, known for kindness and softness, provided mom with moments of sheer terror as they would intertwine between her legs while she cooked over the stove or peeled vegetables in the sink. As we watched late afternoon episodes of Batman, hoping for a CAT-woman villain, along with other shows of that era, Mom would suddenly let out a blood curdling scream from the kitchen as if she burned or cut herself badly. Alas, it was just the cat merely showing love to be quickly followed by, “get this “darn” cat out of here…I hate it!”
Musically, both mom and dad were from a different era where melody and crooners were the music of their day. I on the other hand was into anything but. From the soul pounding blues stylings of Led Zepplin to the Rolling Stones, to the R&B Funk bands of the day, the only music she could stand was Steely Dan, a staple of my listening library. All of these were played fiercely loud by a Soundsystem that literally dimmed the house lights due to the power they consumed and the volumes at which they were played. Ahh large stereo systems…nothing like it! A particular song that became one of moms’ favorites was Eric Clapton’s, Lay Down Sally, that mom just adored. Oh, this is a nice song she would say, and come time for the chorus, “Lay Down Sally” became “Way Down South”, to which we would look at her proudly singing along while literally changing the lyrics completely unaware of the true words. Hey, Mom was singing, so why ruin things…sing on Mom!
Losing her, as one could imagine, is not easy, nor should it be. We were a loving family who cared greatly for each other and Mom’s support in whatever we were doing was always proud, loud, and evident. Rest easy Mom, you were one of the best to ever own the title and wear the crown.
Wease: As Mom's only daughter I was blessed to have such an extraordinary woman as my Mom and roll model. Mom was strong, kind, fun, creative and loving. Her love and pride in her family was ever at the forefront. She delighted in her children, grandchildren, and great grandchildren. No matter what kind of day she might be having her eyes would shine brightly when she was around them. My girls especially had the privilege to spend a lot of time with her and benefit from her life lessons of what family means and so much more. Mom was a lady to her core. She always made an effort to primp and present herself as a lady should. Some might think that old-fashioned but for Mom it was simply who she was, and she was admired by all for that quality. Mom was very creative and would tell us that her childhood dream was to become an actress. Although that particular dream wasn't fulfilled, she joined a local drama club in Saddle Brook and enjoyed it immensely. Mom was also an incredible self-taught seamstress. She made me the most beautiful dresses growing up and even sewed her own wedding dress. She would tell us the story of how her Dad helped her cut out the pattern on their huge dining room table. Of course, it was stunning, and Mom looked incredible. How lucky and blessed I was to have such a special lady as my role model. I will love you forever Mom.
Steve: Once, when I was 5, my Mom took an overnight trip with her brothers to visit my Aunt Adriana. This was quite out of the ordinary for my Mom, as I don’t ever recall a time before or since that she traveled anywhere without my Dad or us, overnight. Nevertheless, she’d arranged for a neighborhood girl to babysit the four of us while my Dad was at work. That first day, Cliff was teaching me to ride my bike without training wheels in the backyard. Together we decided I was ready for a road test, so we moved to the front yard, and he helped launch me down the driveway and into the street in front of the house. It was awesome and I headed down the street on my own. After briefly stopping to see if my friend was home (he wasn’t), I doubled back towards my house without first checking my 6. Lying on the road, under the front end of a car, I realized I may have gotten ahead of myself. While I don’t know the exact chain of events surrounding the notification of my Mom – I just know she got back home as quickly as she could and made my Dad take her to the hospital. Seeing her in my room after the day’s event was perhaps the most welcome and reassuring sight of my life. From that point on, within what the hospital would permit and afterwards through my recovery -- my Mom (and Dad) was there to care for me, fight for me and nurse me through about a 6 month recovery. She’s always been there for my siblings and I – and I know somehow, she will be with us always. Love you forever, Mom. Get the sauce started, we’ll bring the Italian bread.
Dave: Fighting back the tears as I write this and thinking about all the memories I have of my Mom is not easy. Everything my brothers and sisters have shared about Mom sums up how much we loved her. I wish I had called more or visited more but it's too late. I'm so sorry mom, I will always remember you and love you and think of you forever. Now go dance with Dad, ya hear?!!
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