My photography background loves this photo. But what I love more is that she used it as the head photo for the non profit Marie and Pat Ciochetti Foundation. My Aunt Ginny founded it in 2008 and collects various items to help families/kids/whoever who have fallen on some hard times. One example is her Thanksgiving food drive. Another is the coat drive. My favorite is when she collects books and backpacks from anyone willing to donate. I think the books are the best because of my Nonna's love for reading. I think if she could take a look at the Foundation today she'd be proud to say she was helping some kids enjoy a good book now and then.
I remember when I was little she would be sitting in her black recliner with the brass and glass light stand next to her. It was usually scattered with tissues, rosary beads, and prayer cards. But she ALWAYS had a book or two. I was little and would try to thumb through them, mostly because I liked how they felt in my hands. Heavy, comforting. And they just reminded me of afternoons at Nonna. When we would sit outside and eat Jello and Italian pastries/cookies that she kept in the oven in metal tins. My Poppa would be in his favorite spot on the couch if we were all inside. Michael would sit inside with him and ask him for Navy stories. He was intrigued by the invention called SPAM. I recently got a pair of RayBans for Christmas from my Uncle. The Wayfarers. My mom calls them my Poppa glasses because those were his eye wear of choice. He was blind and mostly deaf. So let's pain the scene: a young, dimpled Michael in his high socks and plaid shorts yelling in Poppa's best ear to tell him stories. Poppa loved these moments. In earlier days, we would all sit at the kitchen table, eat those tins of cookies or butter crusty Italian bread. And there were always tissues and a book. Sometimes nail polish.
My memories are chunky, somewhat blurred. I get a warm feeling when I think back to Nonna and Poppa. Not because I remember distinct moments, like Polaroids, but because I remember how I felt as a little kid. Nonna picking up my jean skirt to pinch my butt cheeks before I could scoot away. Her trying to speak Italian and I would obstinately refuse. How she would always have ice-cream (even the Neopolitan that not everyone was a fan of) or Jello at the ready. I remember her homemade pizzas and Christmas eve dinners. And the smell of their house that I cannot accurately describe but can still smell if I close my eyes.
The Foundation is a great thing. No one was more dedicated to their religion. And it wasn't for the sake of being religious. It provided a foundation for a family to grow on. And now it's a foundation for others beyond our family to grow and learn upon. Keep on reading. Keep on donating.
Here's a few links for more info:
Blog: http://ciochettifoundation.blogspot.com/
Facebook page: http://www.facebook.com/pages/Marie-and-Pat-Ciochetti-Foundaion/353794734696741
And of course, Mount Carmel Church in Waterbury is the home base.
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