I’m madder than a porcupine at a hipster quill pen convention over the fact that I can never get to do all the things I need to get done to make sure that I make everybody I need to happy 24 hours a day, seven days a week.
Look, you all know the ol’Screecher couldn’t perform his duties as complainer-in-chief last week because I was overwrought with sadness over the death of my beloved biggest sister Assunta Santa Maria, who passed away on June 4 at the age of 93.
And I don’t need to tell you that if some rerun grade-A, high-quality prose that I’d already produced in the past wasn’t at the ready — and the fact that I was going through handkerchiefs like they were going out of style — I know I still could have gotten the job done.
That’s why when I read the beautiful obituary that appeared in the pages of the Brooklyn Courier — bylined to the one and only Shavana Abruzzo — I couldn’t help but shed some more tears — and get angry at myself for not putting aside my somberness and doing the job I was born to do — writing by beloved sister’s obituary.
Sure, I fed Shav all the great lines she used, including the one about my sister looking like a movie star and the fact that she paid for family vacations out of her own pocket without telling anyone.
And at the wake, when everybody was walking around with cut-out copies of the obit saying what a beautiful job Shavana did, it got me to thinking what would have happened if that obit was a Screecher original.
I mean, I felt bad because it was the least I could do for my sister.
So now, let me add my two extra cents.
The Peter C. LaBella Funeral Chapel was full of beautiful flowers and gorgeous funeral pieces from family and friends. My sister Jennie and brother-in-law Leo set a floral bible at the foot of the casket and I had copied a huge copy of the Santa Maria (pictured) framed with flowers at the other end. At this point, I must give a shameless plug and commend the LaBella Chapels Director Jaime Frank Cappello as well as his caring staff for their kindness, concern and total professionalism.
And what can’t I say about the family! As you know Aunt Sue, as she was called by everyone, never had any kids, but was loved and adored by my sister Jennie and my kids. My nephew Anthony was more devoted than any son could ever be. He showed his love with daily trips to her whether she was in a hospital, nursing home, rehab center, or our family’s Bay 41 Street home, sometimes heading over there two or three times a day to check on her Sue. And Leo was also always there with or whenever Anthony wasn’t. Leo is a Saint!
So, another Santa Maria sails off to heaven. May she rest in piece and watch over us from the bow. We will miss you forever!
Screech at you next week!
©2014 Community News Group
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