She married my father,
Antonio Fornasier, and they had 4 children,
all boys, and I am the third one. She was a hard-working woman trying to
manage
such a big family with only one small income from my father’s job as
employee at a governmental office in my town. She was very good with
cooking,
washing, sewing and knitting, so we never had a problem being fed and
clothed when growing up, although our family had to fight to survive
financially each
month.
She loved music and she had a
wonderful natural soprano voice that filled our house. She really did
represent the famous Italian saying “Canta che ti
passa” (Sing and forget about it). The more problems we had, the more
she was
singing and this is what she taught me first. She always defended me
when my
results at school were not so brilliant because I was playing in a band
and
singing around every week end. She always said: “Do not take the music
away from
Giorgio, because it is, and it will be his life!”
I remember how proud she was
when I started performing the classical music and
opera she loved and this is the last connection to the world she had
when she
was affected by Alzheimer's. Every time I visited her at the Home where
she was in my town, I would start climbing the stairs to her room,
singing her favourite romance and she would jump on the bed and open her
arms
waiting for me, as if she was on a stage. This is the image I have of
her and I
wish to thank her from the bottom of my heart for what she taught me
about
loving all people around me, especially those who are suffering.
My son Daniele, with PWS, had a special place in her heart and he wanted to
be with me by her side when she died.
She was 93 years old, and had spent the last 20 years of
her life living with Alzheimer's.
She kept saying to me: “Loving each other does not cost anything!”
Ti amo, Mama,
Tuo figlio, Giorgio.