My Zia Tanina was a very special person.  When we went to Sicily, as long as Nonna was alive, we stayed at Nonna’s house.  However, after Nonna died, we stayed with Zia Tanina.  That is how it worked out for all family members living outside of Sicily!  Of mom’s 10 siblings, only 3 stayed in Sicily close to Nonna.  All the others left the village for better job opportunities.  Zia Tanina and her husband stayed and worked the land and she (along with her other two sisters who remained in Sicily) took care of Nonna.  She opened her home to all us who returned to Sicily for family visits.  We loved to go out to her farm in the campagna (the countryside).  There she cooked the most amazing foods, made fresh bread,  pizza, fresh pasta called li cavatti and fed our hungry bodies and souls.   She was calm, had a great sense of humor, was a great listener, full of wisdom, and always smiling.

I love this picture Rick took of her hands!  Her hands tell the story of her life.  (and these are li cavatti della Zia Tanina)

Rick also took these photos of traditional items we found in an old unused portion of Zia Tanina’s house.

That is a braccelora (a brazier). In the old days, the Sicilian families used to heat rooms with  la braccelora by placing red hot coals in it.  The whole family would sit around la braccelora and warm their hands and feet.  Zia Tanina told me that those little braziers could really pump out some heat and that the electric heaters that replaced them are nothing by comparison!

Here is another assortment of antique Sicilian kitchenware from Zia Tanina’s house.  The roundish wicker was placed over  la braccelora that went under the dinner table so that no one got burnt while feet stayed toasty warm.

The old generation is precious.  Quietly they slip away and leave a deafening silence in their absence.  Zia Tanina died last year in September 2009.  I had a feeling  when I said goodbye to her on my most recent trip to Sicily last spring in April 2009 that I would not see her again.  I will remember our parting forever.  Her warm strong hands placed over mine, each of us struggling as we say A Dio. The waiting taxi takes my sisters and me away from her.