Remembering Mama Carlino

“I should’ve asked you questions

I should’ve asked you how to be

Asked you to write it down for me

Should’ve kept every grocery store receipt

‘Cause every scrap of you would be taken from me

Watched as you signed your name Marjorie

All your closets of backlogged dreams

And how you left them all to me

What died didn’t stay dead

What died didn’t stay dead

You’re alive, you’re alive in my head” 

Marjorie, Taylor Swift

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=hP6QpMeSG6s

Dear Fellow Foodie, 

On this day, 84 years ago, my beautiful grandmother, Angela Carlino or Mama, was brought into this world. And on this day, 14 years ago, my grandmother entered eternal life. 

My grandmother’s legacy as a chef, co-owner, and creator of Carlino’s is quite well-known within our area. In fact, one of my previous blog posts discussed her and my grandfather’s humble beginnings and how they began the stores. I felt that to honor my grandmother’s legacy today, I would discuss how I see her and how my family remembers her. 

I decided to ask my immediate family members to describe my grandmother in a sentence, and these were their responses: 

If someone asked me to describe my grandmother in one sentence, it would be this: She reminded me of the warmth of the sun and the safety of a blanket, like that moment as a child where you are fearful of the monsters under your bed, so you hide under the covers. She was that for me. She was safety, and the warmth of the sun personified. I know that isn’t one singular sentence, but how can you truly describe someone who meant everything to you in one sentence? 

I was eight years old when my grandmother passed away, and some days it still feels as if no time has passed. Other days, it feels like she’s been gone for an eternity. It will never feel right knowing that I have spent more time missing her than I ever got to love her. Despite that, I feel lucky even to have had her in my life for any amount of time.

My grandmom always had this magical way about her. There is no other way to describe it other than magic. Someone could come to her crying, and even if she didn’t understand their English, she could manage to calm them down. She could hold your hand and calm your heart in an instant. Her cooking could cure any ailment or mood. And she had a way of knowing things that she probably shouldn’t have been able to. That magic seemed to go with her when she passed, but not in the way you probably expect.

Since Thanksgiving is this month, I felt that this story was particularly fitting. My grandmother passed away on November 4th, and that thanksgiving was our first holiday without her. We felt her loss in the most intense ways. The hallways of the store felt empty, despite its full capacity; the noises were dimmed, despite the triumph of voices and music; the hugs shared between family felt more like glue than a simple pat on the back. That year, Thanksgiving had a new meaning. It didn’t just stand for togetherness. It stood for gratitude and remembering everything you had left because it could all be gone so quickly. It had gone so quickly. 

That Thanksgiving, as we were all sitting down for dinner, one of our chefs who became our family noticed something outside. Among the dying & wilted bushes and plants, there was one pink rose vibrantly shining. Despite all the other plants being dead and no other roses growing, that one pink rose grew. It was as if my grandmother wanted to remind us that she was still there. It reminded us that no matter how bleak and dreary the world and life could become, beautiful things could still grow and be created. She was a truly magical woman.

14 years ago, on this day, we lost a tremendous chef, a dedicated worker, a loving mother, aunt, sister, wife, and friend. 14 years ago, on this day, my siblings and I lost our grandmother, my mom lost another mother, and my dad lost his mom. Our lives were never the same after that day, but for as long as we are living, my grandmother will be remembered, and for as long as I am writing, her story will be immortalized in verse. 

To my beautiful grandmother, Happy Birthday. We love you and miss you more than words could ever suffice. Until we meet again and I get to feel the warmth of the sun once more. Your granddaughter, Nadia.  

And to my fellow foodies, treat yourself to some of Mama’s classics in both of our stores. By enjoying our food, your family can experience my grandmother’s love from our kitchen to yours. 

Until next time; your friend,

Nadia Carlino 

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