By Joe Mazzella
For many years now I have tried to make a quicker version of my Nana’s homemade spaghetti sauce. And I have finally realized that there can be no shortcuts to success because no matter how many times I try, it always comes out thinner, more watery, and not quite as good. Nana would spend hours every Sunday slowly simmering and thickening her sauce. She would add hand rolled meatballs, cut potatoes, chicken, and even sometimes steaks to slow cook in the sauce as well. While she watched it in the kitchen she would also make loaves of homemade Italian bread. Each Sunday dinner was a feast to behold. Each Sunday dinner was a gift of love from her to us which we happily accepted with full stomachs and grateful hearts.
That is who my Nana was. She never asked for much but she always gave freely and joyfully to her family and everyone she met. I remember one time years after Nana passed away a lady told me of how she had visited my Nana when she was just a young girl. She admired a necklace my Nana was wearing and without a second thought my Nana took it off and gave it to her. My Nana seemed to instinctively know what it took me many years to learn: when we give, we receive and as we give, we live.
I still miss my Nana every single day of my life. If I could go back and be a child again I wouldn’t change anything. I would just take the time to enjoy and cherish her love with the wisdom of an adult while still being a child. I learned so much from her about love, about kindness, about joy, about giving and about living. And I thank God for the time I had with her.
Our lives here are God’s gift to us. But how we live them is our gift to God. My Nana knew this so well. And she filled her life with loving meals, acts of kindness, and big hugs that filled my little boy’s heart. May we all live our lives so well.
