Drawn by Susan |
DREAMS OF A HAPPY MOTHER’S DAY
(In memory of My Mother, Helen Fischetti)
Dreams of a Mother’s past
A life that did not last
Your death took you away
I had something to say
Revisit another time
When Mother’s love was mine
Only to be found
Homeward bound
Yet in the nights’ air
In my dreams you are there
The love I thought burned
Tonight has returned
Feelings gone from sight
Seen in darkness of the night
A guiding light beams
Mother into my dreams
And I can have my say
To wish you a Happy Mother’s Day!
Susan Marie Davniero
(Published The Poet's Art
& Great South Bay)
LOVE HAS NO FAVORITES
by Helen Fischetti
Love has no favorites
Anyone can try
Love pays no never mind
Never ask you why
Love has no favorites
Winter, spring or fall
Love comes at any time
Anytime at all
One magic moment it takes
Be ready for Cupid sakes
With an enchanting glance
Will bring your big romance
When you seek a Valentine
Keep this thought in view
Love has no favorites
It’s all up to you
AUTHOR’S NOTE: This poem was written by Helen Fischetti and is submitted by her daughter, Susan Marie Davniero (Fischetti) in memory of her mother.
Mother's Last Virgin Mary Statue
MESSAGE
FROM HEAVEN
Published Pancakes In Heaven
My mother, Helen Fischetti,
is never far from my thoughts, although she passed away many years
ago.
I remember when Mom in her golden years retired and widowed. To cheer Mom my sister and I often would give her white Blessed Mother statues in a bed of white flowers. Flowers also seem to fit the occasion for holidays, birthdays and then at last in her hospital room during her terminal illness.
Mother rested during her
illness comforted by a shrine of Blessed Virgin Mary pure white statues. Mother
prayers to the Blessed Mother were her solace – she was never alone with the
Blessed Mother beside her. Alas, Mother’s passing was in her bedroom next to the
bureau with the Blessed Mother pure white ceramic statue..
I recall one week after
Mother’s passing during my mourning; my faith was awakened one morning. This one
morning I walked to the rubbish to discard trash, when something caught my eye –
it was an immaculate pure white Blessed Mother statue glistening in the sunlight
erect on top of the trash can! I like to believe this was a divine message from
Heaven sent by my beloved departed Mother, Helen Fischetti.
To this day, the Blessed
Mother statue, that I found, sits proudly on my bureau in our home besides
Mother’s photograph. I feel Mom is always with me. Perhaps, my mother’s prayers
to the Blessed Mother were answered after all.
written by Susan Marie
Davniero
Photo of the
Virgin Mary Statue in my Mother's last bedroom
|
IN MEMORY OF HELEN FISCHETTI
by Susan Marie Davniero
I hear my Mother playing the piano. Motherhood was an art to my Mother, Helen Fischetti. My mother, Helen Fischetti, was very talented in writing music, plays and poetry. My mother worked full time as a Bank Branch Manager. Her hobbies also included designing and sewing clothes, reading novels and playing the piano. A woman of many words? she wrote the songs. All the sounds of talent danced around her.
Happy Mother’s Day, Gig!
Happy Mother’s Day, Gig!
To my mother-in-law
(Published The Pink Chameleon, Long Story Short, Act 2 Newsday)
I
was newly married to her son and took charge of buying “our gifts” for
holidays. I remember our first Mother’s Day gift to my mother-in-law - an
engraved tea cup set for display. Unaccustomed to real gifts from her son, Bob
(Bob always gave money gifts inserted in cards rather than actually buying
something.) Gig was happily surprised “A gift from Bob…how lovely.”
On our next visit I found our gift proudly displayed on her bedroom dresser. Ever since that first Mother’s Day gift she always graciously thanked us for our gifts, as the proper hostess she was.
On our next visit I found our gift proudly displayed on her bedroom dresser. Ever since that first Mother’s Day gift she always graciously thanked us for our gifts, as the proper hostess she was.
I
wasn’t always as gracious often exchanging her gifts for something else.
Looking back now I realize I wasn’t always the best daughter-in-law. I always
gave Gig cards adorned by cats, thoughtlessly because I loved cats, even though
Gig didn’t.
Throughout
our marriage, as customary for the wife, I continued to do all the holiday
planning. Bob and I often celebrated holiday’s dinners with long visits at my
parent’s house while Gig’s holiday visits were brief morning breakfasts. And
when I was at her house I wasn’t the best guest, often monopolizing the
conversation, and she silently smiled and just listened. Bob, as the compliant
obliging husband accepted whatever I decided for our holiday plans.
My
mother-in-law is gone now, yet I will always remember how she and my mother
conspire to plot arranging her son, Bob, to phone me for a date.
Suddenly it’s 1979 and Gig’s son phoned. It was the blind date that changed my life. We met at Gig’s house. There Gig stood at the front door to welcome me. It was the first time I met her, too. Looking at this comely woman, smiling as her blue eyes glisten beneath a pile of blonde bouffant hair framing a natural pretty face, my thoughts swirled “How can this blond woman be my Italian’s date’s mother?”
Suddenly it’s 1979 and Gig’s son phoned. It was the blind date that changed my life. We met at Gig’s house. There Gig stood at the front door to welcome me. It was the first time I met her, too. Looking at this comely woman, smiling as her blue eyes glisten beneath a pile of blonde bouffant hair framing a natural pretty face, my thoughts swirled “How can this blond woman be my Italian’s date’s mother?”
With
that greeting, she steps aside to allow her son to meet his blind date. It was
the beginning of her stepping aside to make room for us in her busy active
life. At that time, divorced from Bob’s father and remarried she often traveled
with her new husband. In fact she barely made our wedding, in between her many vacation
trips, and wore a gown from her cruise as mother-of-the- groom.
Gig
was very sociable and loved to entertain her extended family. Although there
was always room and a place setting for us, I often felt like an outsider being
accustom to my parents special attention given us. As a result I often turned
down her many invitations on behalf of Bob and me. Yet, Bob was not forgotten
as Gig always had “the black/white cookies Bob loves…just for Bob” as part of
her desert spread, remembered us on all special occasions and accepted whatever
time we gave her.
Many
years have passed since 1979 as Gig was now widowed, living in a retirement
community, and struck by cancer. The diagnosis was not good. Yet when remission
set in and stalled the deadly process we planned Mother’s Day. Our gift that
year was our invitation to take her out for Mother’s Day dinner at Chateau
Lamer.
As
usual Gig graciously accepted our gift, although this gift seems to genuinely
excite her and told family members “Bob and Susan are taking me out for Mother’s
Day…”
Alas,
it was to be our last Mother’s Day gift to her. Gig died the following Sunday
morning on Mother’s Day, May 12, 2001. We never really gave her
that last gift. This memoir is my belated Mother’s Day gift to my
mother-in-law, Gig (Gertrude Davniero-Ellison). Happy Mother’s Day, Gig.
by Susan Marie Davniero
Suddenly it’s 1979 and Gig’s son phoned. It was the blind date that changed my life. We met at Gig’s house. There Gig stood at the front door to welcome me. It was the first time I met her, too. I recall looking at this comely woman, smiling at mesa her blue eyes glisten beneath a pile of blonde bouffant hair framing natural pretty face, my thoughts swirled thinking; “How can this blond woman be my Italian’s date’s mother?”
by Susan Marie Davniero
Published Act 2 Newsday
Happy
Mother’s-in-Law Day, Gig!
(In memory
of Gertrude Ellison)
I was newly married to her son and
took charge of buying “our” gifts for friends and family. I remember our first
Mother’s Day gift to my mother-in-law - an engraved tea cup set for display.
Unaccustomed to real gifts from her son, Bob (Bob always gave cash inserted in
gift cards rather than actually buying something.) Gig was happily surprised “A gift from Bob…that's different...How
lovely the cup is...” she explained upon unwrapping her present.
On our next visit I saw our gift,
the tea cup set, proudly displayed on her bedroom dresser. Ever since that
first Mother’s Day gift she always graciously thanked us for our gifts, and
usually put them on display. Our gifts were not ignored.
I wasn’t always as gracious as Gig
often exchanging her gifts for something else. Looking back now I realize I
could have been a better daughter-in-law. I often would give Gig cards adorned
by cats, because I loved cats, although Gig didn’t.
Throughout our marriage, as customary
for the wife, I did all of the holiday planning. Bob and I often celebrated
holiday’s dinners with long visits at my parent’s home while Gig’s holiday
visits were brief morning breakfasts at her house.
My mother-in-law lived with her
husband in Seaford only a few miles from our Lindenhurst LI home and yet there
was enough of a distance to keep me away. And when I was at her house I
wasn’t the best guest, often monopolizing the conversation, while she silently
smiled and listened.
My mother-in-law is gone now, yet I
will always remember how she and my mother conspire to meet, plotting to
arrange her son, Bob, to phone me for a blind date.
Suddenly it’s 1979 and Gig’s son phoned. It was the blind date that changed my life. We met at Gig’s house. There Gig stood at the front door to welcome me. It was the first time I met her, too. I recall looking at this comely woman, smiling at mesa her blue eyes glisten beneath a pile of blonde bouffant hair framing natural pretty face, my thoughts swirled thinking; “How can this blond woman be my Italian’s date’s mother?”
With that greeting, she steps aside
to allow her son to meet his blind date. It was the beginning of her stepping
aside to make room for us in her busy active life. At that time, divorced from
Bob’s father and remarried she often traveled with her new husband. In fact she
barely made our wedding and wore a gown from her cruise as mother-of-the-
groom. Yet her house was always open to me...my Wedding Shower was held at her
house and Bob and I married at her church.
After we married I soon realize Gig
was very sociable and loved to entertain her extended family. Although there
was always room and place settings for us, I prefer visits at my parents’ home,
the house I grew up in. As a result I often turned down her many invitations on
behalf of Bob and me. Yet, Bob was not forgotten as Gig always had “the black/white cookies Bob loves…just for Bob
“as part of her desert spread.
Many years have passed since 1979 to
find Gig now widowed. If I could I would apologize to my mother-in-law
today for avoiding her home. Even if she had lived it would be too little too
late for the hurt I must of caused her.
After her husband passed away she
sold the large two-story home and moved into a Townhouse part of the retirement
village. Soon after Gig was struck by cancer and the diagnosis was not good.
Yet when remission set in and stalled the deadly process we planned Mother’s
Day.
Our gift that year was our dinner
invitation to take her out on Mother’s Day at Chateau Lamer. As usual Gig
graciously accepted our gift, although this gift seemed to genuinely excite her
and she told family members “Bob and
Susan are taking me out for Mother’s Day…”
It would have been our last Mother’s
Day gift to her. Alas, Gig died the next morning on Mother’s Day, May 11, 2001.
We never really gave her that last gift. This memoir is my belated Mother’s Day
gift to my mother-in-law, Gig (Gertrude Davniero-Ellison). Happy Mother’s Day,
Gig!
Susan Marie Davniero
Sinatra Sundays
Dedicated to Mother-in-law
Gig
Dinners at my mother-in-law
My husband’s mother back then
She’s cooking in the kitchen
To radio songs from her heyday
On WHLI Sinatra Sundays
That was then
This is now when
Sundays’ drive my husband reminisce
Saying “My mom listened to this…”
He turns the radio on to play
On WHLI its Sinatra Sunday
Written by Susan Marie
Davniero
MY MOTHER’S SONGS
(Published Great South Bay Magazine)
My Mother’s songs
Her music belongs
The lyrics known
For her to own
Writing the verses
As songs emerges
Hear, so shall be
My Mother’s melody
As we listen to
Her musical menu
Forever long
My Mother’s songs
Susan Marie Davniero
My Mother’s Songs
Published Great South Bay
Published Great South Bay
by Susan Marie Davniero
A MOTHER’S LOVE
Published Great South Bay
Published Great South Bay
A Mother’s love smothers
Hugs the world all over
So proud of my mother
Who always goes farther
Giving is not a bother
Taking care of others
Happy Mother’s Day, Mother
Susan Marie Davniero
My Mother, Helen Fischetti 1944 |
MY STORY
GOODNIGHT MOTHER
In Memory of My Mother, Helen Fischetti
(Published Coffee-Ground Breakfast)
(Published Coffee-Ground Breakfast)
By way of remembrance of my beloved Mother (Helen Fischetti,) who passed away few years ago, I seek solace of Mother’s absence on Mother’s Day.
Mother had a sense of being in all that she did, be it her career in banking, her talents in writing music, her fashion in dress designer or retreating into book reading. Greeting Mother for a good night kiss, I could often find Mother resting with a book prior to a welcome nights slumber in course of a long day at work, alongside Father. The darkness of night was illuminated on the pages by a strategic compact bed lamp Father hinged onto the bed post. Father lovingly adapt and slept by shimmering quiet glare of the bed lamp (not to deprive Mother of a good book) as the light was shut only when the book was.
Mother also wrote a flood of her own words. Her reading had given her words to spare. Mother was an amateur writer of her own adaptations of literary verse, narrative renditions of songs, theatrical plays or short stories, in her lilt of the language. Often I reconcile my ambivalence towards Mother by sharing writings with her. Yet, her plans to be published had not gone beyond her words, as her works went unpublished and came to be her remorse in life as Mother confronted the last chapter of her life brought on by a terminal cancer.
As Mother’s resilience to her illness weaken, my older sister, Teresa bounded a collection of Mother’s varied writings (music, plays, short stories) in a computer paradigm and book prototype, in which copies were produced to distribute to myself and my twin, Laura. Mother was to be contented with her makeshift “published book” of her works, as her mournful countenance in the final chapter of her life. Alas, the book closed and the light was shut as she passed on.
In gesture of Mother’s passing, I greeted Mother for one last goodnight kiss. The past revisited me as I was sadly amiss as Mother rested without a book. Prepared against the eventuality of her passing, I search for the words I wanted as I sought to challenge the finality of her life in her own words – found in her book. I placed Mother’s book with her. And I prayed, shall Mother forevermore read in the dark, enlightened by incandescent eternal light. Goodnight Mother.
Susan Marie (Fischetti) Davniero
MOM'S BIRTHDAY AUGUST 25, 1988 |
MIRROR, MIRROR
(Published Write On)
MIRROR, MIRROR
(Published Write On)
Mirror, mirror
I draw nearer
Looking glass
View my past
An image trace
Of my Mother’s face
Daughters hope to cover
The face of Mother
Eternal question occur
Nature versus nurture
Tell sisters and brothers
Daughters become their mothers
My future is nearer
Mirror, mirror
Whom do I see
If not thee
Mirror, mirror
On the wall
I am my Mother
After all
A Mother’s Tears
Some
women are strong when they love. They give until it hurts and give even more. These women pick themselves up when they fall.
They ask for no help, choosing to do it themselves and stand alone needing no
one. And yet they need everyone to need them. Without giving to others they
would be lost in a shallow world of selfishness and self-pity.
At
times they are often quick to anger in their struggles. Yet, this does not stop
their forever giving of themselves to others.
These
are the women who have nurtured and raised the children. They ask for no
thanks. Do not worship them for they are not divine.
They
are not known to cry – crying is for the timid and weak. It is that love from
giving that supports their strength.
Their place is not with the unloved.
These
are the women called mother. Mother's Day is the reason why it would feel good to cry
All
Mothers should be remembered – not just your own.
Susan Marie Davniero
A Mother’s Tears
Some
women are strong
Loving
right or wrong
Giving
until it hurts
Forgiving
and forgets
Picking
themselves up
When
they fall or trip
They
do not cry sweet
Crying
is for the weak
Strong
to stand tall
Doing
it all
Never
to stop giving
Forever
they’re living
Not
living for themselves
This
is their wealth
To
nurture and caring for others
These
women are called mothers.
Mother’s
day a reason why
It
would feel good to cry
By
Susan Marie Davniero
SEALED WITH A KISS – SWAK
by Susan Marie Davniero
Published Long Story Short Issue
At eighteen I vacation away from home
On the roadway free to roam
Pack luggage with best friend Marge
Destination was Florida at large
Mom's loving letters from home wrote
Writing "SWAK" on her envelopes
Another love letter meant more to me
Sent by Bob, my husband to be
Bob's words of love spoke
"Marry Me?" - was all he wrote
Susan Marie Davniero
Mom’s SWAK Envelope, Credit: Susan Marie Davniero |
Graduation Day
You have graduated
You're on your way
Good luck to you
Set your goals high
Reach for the sky
May dreams come true
Good luck to you
by Helen Fischetti
Susan Marie Davniero
Obituaries: Farmingdale Observer - May 19, 2001
www.antonnews.com/farmingdaleobserver/2001/05/18/obituaries/Cached
May 19, 2001 – Gertrude Ellison (nee Savoldy), of Bethpage, died on May 12, 2001. Wife of the late Alfred. Mother of Audrey Hutnick, Robert Davniero (Susan), ...HAPPY MOTHER'S DAY GIG!
(To
my mother-in-law)
Published Pancakes in Heaven
Published Pancakes in Heaven
I was newly married to her son and took charge of buying “our” gifts for
friends and family. I remember our first Mother’s Day gift to my mother-in-law -
an engraved tea cup set for display. Unaccustomed to real gifts from her son,
Bob (Bob always gave cash inserted in cards rather than actually buying
something.) Gig was happily surprised “A gift from Bob…how lovely” she explained
upon receiving present. Days later I found our gift proudly displayed on her
bedroom dresser. Ever since that first Mother’s Day gift she always graciously
thanked us for our gifts, as the proper lady she was.
I wasn’t always as gracious as Gig often exchanging her gifts for
something else. Looking back now I realize I could have been a better
daughter-in-law. I thoughtlessly gave Gig cards adorned by cats, because I loved
cats, and Gig didn’t.
Throughout our marriage, as customary for the wife, I did all of the
holiday planning. Bob and I often celebrated holiday’s dinners with long visits
at my parent’s home while Gig’s holiday visits were brief morning breakfasts at
her house. And when I was at her house I wasn’t the best guest, often
monopolizing the conversation, and she silently smiled and just listened. Bob,
as the compliant obliging husband accepted whatever I decided for our holiday
plans.
My mother-in-law is gone now, yet I will always remember how she and my
mother conspire to plot arranging her son, Bob, to phone me for a blind date.
Suddenly it’s 1979 and Gig’s son phoned. It was the blind date that changed my
life. We met at Gig’s house. There Gig stood at the front door to welcome me. It
was the first time I met her, too. I recall looking at this comely woman,
smiling at me as her blue eyes glisten beneath a pile of blonde bouffant hair
framing a natural pretty face, my thoughts swirled thinking; “How can this blond
woman be my Italian’s date’s mother?”
With that greeting, she steps aside to allow her son to meet his blind
date. It was the beginning of her stepping aside to make room for us in her busy
active life. At that time, divorced from Bob’s father and remarried she often
traveled with her new husband. In fact she barely made our wedding and wore a
gown from her cruise as mother-of-the- groom.
Gig was very sociable and loved to entertain her extended family.
Although there was always room and place settings for us, I often felt like an
outsider being accustomed to my parents’ special attention given us. As a result
I often turned down her many invitations on behalf of Bob and me. Yet, Bob was
not forgotten as Gig always had “the black/white cookies Bob loves…just for Bob”
as part of her desert spread.
Many years have passed since 1979 as Gig was now widowed, living in a
retirement community, and struck by cancer. The diagnosis was not good. Yet when
remission set in and stalled the deadly process we planned Mother’s Day. Our
gift that year was our invitation to take her out for Mother’s Day dinner at
Chateau Lamer. As usual Gig graciously accepted our gift, although this gift
seemed to genuinely excite her and she told family members “Bob and Susan are
taking me out for Mother’s Day…”
Alas, it would have been our last Mother’s Day gift to her. Gig died the
following Sunday morning befittingly on Mother’s Day, May 12, 2001. We never
really gave her that last gift. This memoir is my belated Mother’s Day gift to
my mother-in-law, Gig (Gertrude Davniero-Ellison) HAPPY MOTHERS DAY, GIG!
Written By: Susan Marie Davniero
Mother S Day Happy Mother S Day Coloring Pages List www.coloringpagesblog.com/items/mother-s-day-happy-mother-s-day..Mother
S Day Happy Mother S Day Coloring Pages. Here are some Mother S Day Happy
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Susan Marie
Davniero Coloring Pages
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Drawn by Susan |
Helen Cioffi Fischetti Memorial | ||||||||||||||||||||||||||||||
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