Momma

My sister has said that we’re here to celebrate our mother before the sight of God.

For those of you who knew “Clara”, Clementina, I hope you will recognize her in these words.  We all know her as a demure lady, but the child of courageous immigrants, conscientious but adventurous. 

Momma had one true path which she traveled with grace, and a spirit of playfulness and innocence.  Her faith in Jesus was unquestioning and sincere; she had a special adoration for St. Mary; and found meaning in Mary’s example.

Momma did not follow trends.  She was secure in her own sense of style, and timeless values.  I believe she was the same as a maiden, as she was as a Great Grandma.  She took joy in a task well done for its own sake, whether it was tennis, typing, corporate ledgers, cooking, building a house, or serving tea to friends.  Difficulty never seemed to faze her.  It was all like a game…..with rules.  Life was a series of small tasks that lead to a beautiful result.

Yet, as comfortable as Momma was in her own space that she created through a million little tasks, she was able to leave it all behind and start again.  Not just once, but five times by my count, mostly to be close to us, her children.

Clara’s attitude toward tasks extended to people.  She loved the people she knew.  Reserved and spare with words, she spoke from the heart.  If she judged, she judged kindly, empathetically.  Her words soothed, encouraged and uplifted.  And she played.  She made a good life fun.

In all her moves she kept her bonds to people she held dear, even her childhood friend whom she visited in what would be both of their last year in life.

She passed as she lived: with grace, love and faith. As her great granddaughter remarked, she made all of us better.

Clementina Mosca Zinno

Eulogy by Jan Allen

Today we are here to celebrate the beautiful life of a gracious lady, Clementina – mild little one, in the translation to English. 

My grandparents named her well.  She had a kind and gentle nature, never to be confused with frailty. 

For myself, her granddaughters and great granddaughters Mom was a role model to emulate: a perfectionist in all that she did, she made homemaking an art. Our home was beautifully decorated and spotless, even our beach house was a sand free zone! 

She didn’t just sew, she tailored clothes; she didn’t just cook and bake, she was a chef.  She was the Martha Stewart of our very large extended family – without the bad press, of course.  She protected her family at all costs to herself.  Dad relied on her patience to set the standards for us.  She set the bar high, never satisfied with mediocrity, but she was always there to help.  She was our teacher and our greatest fan.

Because she was a very private person, those who did not know her well may have missed her strong, resilient, and even athletic side.  She was calm under pressure, and silent in moments of pain and grief.

Among the many tributes I’ve read in the past week, beauty, grace and quiet strength are recurring themes.  As one cousin wrote: her footprint on the hearts of many will endure for generations.