copd

i have started using a copd chat room. i will add these kind people to my mental list of people to "hope" for. I worry that once again i have joined a group i dont really belong in. I am still young for all of this, and in a way i wish i never had to know anyone who has the problems that most do in this chat room. But then again i know they are kind people. i think i can bring some hope to them.

not going to the nursing home tonight was good, but i find myself missing her. i have gotten used to the nights with her and the other people at the nursing home. i dont like much being home home. it hurts just as bad.

deformed babies and scared firefighters

today at work i photographed some very deformed babies in the morning and then a firefighter who hardly survived a fire in the afternoon. not to say i dont love my job, but its just hard going from that to the nursing home no wonder i am to depressed to move by the time i get home at night...

maybe tonight someone else will check on nonna and i can rest, that would be nice...

my heart rots with anger, guilt, and sadness. so much that my hand shakes and my stomach churns. i wish i could snap my fingers and make myself feel differently. maybe when she finds peace- i have to just keep thinking that.

i am sorry if i hurt you. know i didn't mean to. know its only because i hurt as well. i am sorry.

head on your shoulder

i would like to just rest my head on your shoulder feel safe in your arms
know i am loved
i would like to be myself for myself and not for anyone else
maybe i could breath freely with my head on your shoulder
because you know more about what has happened then the rest of the world
you feel pain to
you feel hurt to
you feel loss to
maybe i just want to know i am not alone
and resting my head on your shoulder well that would be all i would need
just for a minute can i?

Thoese eyes

I used to look into those eyes from about 3 ft shorter. I would look up and thing how wonderfull this woman is. So strong, and brave. Always there for people she loves. I have grown and her eyes have become empty. They search every day for some truth, and when she finds it she does not believe it.

I will hope that some day she finds the truth she is looking for, and she goes home to the place where she is the woman I used to know. The woman I will allways look up to.

sadness anger and what else...

My uncle who is 64 years old and has had so many health probelms is smoking again. I dont even know if i can say he ever even stoped. He had tripple bi-pass allready and many other operations but his health has been very poor. He is killing himself. His depression is bad, really bad. He is upset about nonna all the time. He talks about bringing her home sometimes. He is trying to drag us down with him. I cant take it. I used to look up to him, but now whenever i think about him i just want to throw a punch. I dont know how to handle it anymore because he DEFINALY does not respect me. To him I am a child nothing more. I dont hardly matter in his life so how can i go about talking to him about this stuff?

that was one long day

June 13th huh, well it dident go as i had planed. I woke up this morning shaking and felt as if i could throw up. I am going to make myself sick if I don't give myself some slack for last night. I am going to try because i know Nonna would want me to be healthy and happy.

87 Years, The Story of a Mad Italian Woman

87 Years, The Story of a Mad Italian Woman

Authors note: I decided since Nonna’s birthday is tomorrow that I would write a short version of the biography I hope to one day write. It’s nothing I would ever publish, but its something I would like to do, and have to pass down to other generations, so that all my children will know Nonna though her story.


June 13th 1920, the year women got the right to vote. Problem was when this baby was born she wasn’t in America. Caserta, Italy a very small town outside of Naples is where Fortunata Pascrell and Antimo Ratzano had Angela Ratzano. She was the forth child, and the only girl. Antimo had a farm, and Angela’s brothers were allowed to work on it when they got older. Angela often refused to go to school just to stay and work on the farm, because that’s what she loved to do. She would sing the most beautiful songs to her brothers as they worked and they loved to have her company.

They never had money for much, and when it came time for her to marry it was another poor farm boy who won her over. Nicola Capasso didn’t have much to offer her but they on a day in August they walked to the church to be married. Only a year later that had a son, and then 3 years later had a daughter. They lived the simple life in Italy, never any money, just living off the earth. They wanted more, not for themselves but for there children. Little Vinchenzo was just 7 and Filomena was just 4 when the moved to the United States. It wasn’t hard for them to learn the new language but Angela and Nicola struggled.

They moved around a lot at first, living with family or friends just to get by. Angela worked at Syracuse China, and Nicola worked with a trading company and was not around much. It was hard for Angela to make enough just to keep her kids well fed. They had been in the states 3 years when they had another child. Nicola insisted they name her Angela. It was clear that this child would have advantages that the others did not have because she was born in the United States. She grew up around a brother who fought in Vietnam, and a sister who married at the age of 16. Her father, Nicola, died of brain cancer while she was just 13.

Angela jr. went to high school unlike the others, she attended college unlike the others, and she even graduated law school. Nonna Angela’s job was not over yet. She moved in with Angela jr. when she had her second child (Stefanie aka ME!). She cared for both of Angela’s children like they were her own. She took them to school in the morning and tucked them in at night. She told them stories how what her life in Italy was like. She told them about there grandfather, and his quite and stern ways. She taught them to love, and to cook for people you love. She taught them to never give up on something you care about.

This is my Grandmothers life. I couldn’t thank her enough for what she did for me, and for what she did for my family. I will never forget it. Thanks for taking the time to read this. It means a lot to me.