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.