Maria Occhino (née Torquato)

It is with profound sadness that we announce the passing of our beloved mother, Nonna, sister and friend, Maria Occhino, on September 27, 2026, at the age of 80, following a courageous battle with cancer.

Maria was predeceased by her beloved husband, Giacomo Occhino, on October 15, 2010, and by her brothers, Angelo, Giovanni, Alberto, Francesco and Giacinto Torquato.

Left to cherish her memory are her children, Frank (Maureen), Saveria (Curtis), Giacomo “Jack” and Carlo; her beloved grandchildren, Milan, Katia, Paulina, Riley (Erik) and Jake; her brothers, Mario (Vincenza) and Antonio (Giannina) Torquato; and her sister, Giovanna (Angelo) Castagnaro, along with her extended family and countless friends whose lives were made brighter simply by knowing her.

Maria was born on December 3, 1945, in San Mango d’Aquino, Calabria, Italy. In 1963, at just 17 years old, she made the journey to Winnipeg with her brothers and sister to begin a new life in Canada. While Winnipeg became her home, Italy was forever in her heart. She remained immensely proud of her Italian heritage. Throughout her life, she celebrated its traditions, values, and maybe most of all, the Calabrian food she grew up on.

On May 3, 1969, Maria married Giacomo Occhino in Winnipeg. They built a life centred around family and the Italian traditions they both cherished. They had four children and raised them in a home where family and friends were always welcome.

Together, they had two family businesses. Firstly, Caffè Italia, and then La Trattoria Ristorante, both on Corydon Avenue. Maria’s warmth, infectious personality and unmistakable smile made everyone feel welcome. Maria and Giacomo shared more than 41 years of marriage before his passing in 2010.

Maria devoted more than 34 years of her working life to caring for others as a nurse’s aide at Taché Centre, now Actionmarguerite, Golden West Centennial Lodge and other personal care homes in Winnipeg. Caring for people came naturally to Maria. It was not simply something she did for a living; it was part of who she was.

Her garden was another source of great pride and happiness. Whether tending vegetables destined for the kitchen or filling her yard with flowers, Maria loved watching things grow and sharing the results with those around her.

Family gatherings were never quite complete until Maria said it was complete. She was full of life, quick with a joke and almost always wearing the big smile for which she will be remembered. She loved being surrounded by people and was happiest when the house was full, the table was crowded, and family and friends were together. Maria loved to cook, and feeding the people she loved was one of the ways she showed her affection.

Later in life, Maria treasured the time she and Giacomo spent at Twin Beaches, surrounded by family and friends who also had cottages there. Those summers created many wonderful memories and gave Maria another place where family, food, laughter and friendship naturally came together.

Above everything else, Maria was Nonna. Milan, Katia, Paulina, Riley and Jake were her world. She made sure they were loved, fed, cared for and, in true Nonna fashion, never went without. Her devotion to them was boundless.

But Maria’s title of Nonna was never limited to her own grandchildren. Over the years, many of her children’s friends also came to know and love her simply as “Nonna.” There could perhaps be no greater testament to Maria’s giving nature and kind soul. Family, to Maria, was never defined solely by blood. If you came through her door, sat at her table and became part of her children’s lives, there was always a place for you in hers.

During the final six months of her life, Maria faced cancer with remarkable strength and courage. Even through the most difficult days, the qualities that defined her never disappeared. She continued to smile, continued to joke, and continued to welcome visits from the family and friends she loved having around her. Her strength remained with her until her final days.

Maria leaves behind a legacy that cannot be measured simply in years. It lives in her children and grandchildren, in the traditions she passed down, in recipes that will forever be attempted but never quite duplicated, in summers remembered at Twin Beaches, and in the many people who were fortunate enough to be welcomed into her life.

Her family will miss her beautiful smile, her humour, her strength, her generosity, her cooking, her stories and the unmistakable warmth she brought into every room.

Most of all, we will simply miss our Mom, our Nonna, our sister and our friend.

Funeral Mass was celebrated on Thursday, October 8, 2026, at Holy Rosary Roman Catholic Church, 510 River Avenue, Winnipeg. Condolences were received from 10:00 a.m. to 11:00 a.m., followed by Mass at 11:00 a.m. Livestream was available. A private family burial followed.

In lieu of flowers, donations were asked to be made in Maria’s memory in support of Palliative Care through the St. Boniface Hospital Foundation.

Rest peacefully, my sweet Mom, Nonna, sister and friend.

Your love, laughter and beautiful smile will remain with us always.

Eulogy for Maria "Nonna" Occhino

December 3, 1945 – September 27, 2026

How do you summarize a woman who was a true force of nature? To her family, she was a devoted mother, sister, aunt/Zia, and godmother. To her grandchildren, she was pure magic: the one who spoiled them without apology, kept their secrets, and made every one of them feel like the star of the show. And to the rest of the world, including every single one of her children's and grandchildren's friends, she was simply and affectionately "Nonna."

She came from San Mango d’Quino in Calabria, and at 17, she brought her heritage with her to Winnipeg: work hard, feed everyone, keep your family close, and love unconditionally. She never stopped living by those rules, and she never stopped being proud of where she came from or her family.

Zia Maria was a woman of fierce hard work and an even fiercer capacity to love. When she became a Health Care Aide, she gave her hands and her deep empathy to people who needed comfort and she was great at it showing compassion and care. In the restaurant she and Zio Giacomo ran, she created a sanctuary of hospitality. Her doors were never really closed, no stranger stayed a stranger for long, and her table was always long enough to fit one more person. I would often go there with my dad after piano and Zia Maria would always make me a Shirley Temple at the back table, she did it for all of us – the most elaborate temple, with an orange slice, maraschino cherry on a coloured pick. One small gesture, with so much love put into it, every time.

Zia Maria was also funny, and she knew it. She was unapologetically fun, with a laugh you could find in any room, which we will never forget. No visit was complete without her arriving with cookies and bitters in hand. This was her, never empty handed, always giving and full of love. I would often tell her I loved her, and she said the same back. Little things which have so much meaning.

Maria believed life should be lived well and food should be made with love, and she held herself to both. We will forever smile remembering what she said whenever she ate out: "I could have made it better." And honestly, she usually could have. But the beautiful truth is that she didn't just make the food better. By just being in it, she made our whole world better.

At home, she poured that same nurturing soul into her beautiful garden. She loved tending to her flowers, plants and veggies and she created a masterpiece of colour that stopped neighbours in their tracks. Her garden also fed us. Every summer, nobody left her house empty-handed: a bag of tomatoes, a bundle of peppers, whatever was ready that week, often pressed on you before you could say no. She gave plants away the same, dividing them, potting cuttings, and sending them home with all of us, I gave mine to my dad as I did not inherit their green thumb like the Torquato’s. Many of us have something growing in our own homes and yards that began in hers. Just like her flowers, she watched her children and grandchildren grow with immense pride, watering lives with endless affection. Her family meant everything to her and that love also extended to her pets and the family’s pets as well. She had a special spirit that people and animals naturally gravitated toward, and she never arrived at a family home without a pocket full of treats to share.

Some of our happiest memories are the summer days at Bird Hill Park and Oasis Beach. The whole family came, siblings, children, grandchildren, and cousins gathered. Blankets were spread, there was far too much food, and the grown-ups talked and laughed in Italian and English while we played until sunset.

Later, many of the siblings brought those picnics home with cabins at Twin Beach, nearly all on the same street which became our own little village. We were grown by then, with families of our own, but the pull was the same. Siblings gathered again, and there was always a table to pull up to, a pot on the stove, and someone calling out to come sit. The picnic never ended. It just moved closer to home.

She understood that the greatest thing she could leave us was each other.

Maria, Mom, Nonna, Sorella, Zia, you worked so hard, you laughed so infectiously, and you loved us so deeply. We'll keep your table full, your garden growing, and your laugh echoing in every room we're in. La famiglia e il cuore di tutto.

Rest in peace.