Carmela Jill Masterman

As I look around this room, and see all of my grandmother’s loved ones, I am reminded that we are my grandmother’s garden, her living legacy of love. And time cannot touch the many gifts she gave us. Her gifts live within each of us, interwoven together like seedlings, lovingly cultivated and nurtured over the course of her life. Although we can no longer see her in the physical world, she is with us. A mother, a sister, a grandmother, an aunt, a friend like Carmela Jill Masterman Mancini is more than a memory; she is a living presence. And, for as long as her gifts live on, she too will live; for she is now a part of us; as we remember her.

Although we realize that death is a part of life, we are still ill-prepared to accept the enormity of this loss. In every sense of the word, my grandmother was the matriarch of our family. It is only right, then, that we ask ourselves how we go on without her to counsel, minister, and sustain us? The 'gift' of grief, however, is that it presents us with the opportunity to heal and grow, to come together, and to remember all the gifts, hardships, and love within my grandmother’s remarkable life. So, let us say not in grief that she is no more, but in thankfulness that she was. And somehow, being consoled by a community of people who loved my grandmother, who feel this loss as deeply as I do, it does ease the pain.

When I close my eyes, and think of my grandmother, I see her dancing with a contagious smile upon her face, and hear her belting out a showtune, sometimes slightly off key. Undeterred, we could always count on her to be the loudest voice in any chorus, and our most fervent cheerleader. What I wouldn’t give to hear her singing Chattanooga Choo Choo once again.

My grandmother’s sometimes unconventional vocal stylings are an appropriate metaphor for the enthusiasm and determination with which she approached all things. I have often said that my grandmother was among the original feminists. I once asked her why she was a Catholic, and she explained that it was her love and reverence of Mary. She saw Mary as a symbol of both a woman’s power and of maternal compassion and sacrifice in the service of others. When her father didn’t recognize the importance of education for women, my grandmother famously dissented, “Lincoln freed the slaves!” Undaunted, she set out on her own as a teenager, and this early attempt to restrain her potential only served to forge her steely resolve.

She eventually did get the education that she was once denied, graduating magna cum laude, as her children proudly watched her receive the honor. Remarkably, she was never disillusioned by the many obstacles she faced throughout her life. On the contrary, she firmly believed that if you wanted something, and put your mind to the task, you could accomplish anything. In so doing, she gave us the gifts of courage and tenacity.

When she and my grandfather built a home together, my grandmother pored over books, learning all about electricity and building codes. She wired the entire house herself, and had it professionally approved by the building inspector. I remember her calling me one night, livid that she couldn’t yet get broadband access at her condo in Florida. I think she was in her 80s at the time. Not surprisingly, she then ran for a seat on the HOA board, and ensured high-speed internet for the seniors at Colonial Club. Not long after, she got a Facebook account, and told me that she was a fan of Lady Gaga – “that nice Catholic girl,” she would say. My grandmother was always ahead of her time.

My mother vividly recalls the sound of the sewing machine (an old peddler pusher) whirring late into the night, as my grandmother made all the children’s clothes. The clothes lasted forever because the hems and seams were better than anything sold in the stores. When Linda got married, I remember my grandmother making us the most exquisite, purple flower girl dresses. Her exacting standards always served to remind us that only the best for her loved ones would do. Her tenacity was a fire that burned within her, this unyielding source of strength, which still lights the way for all of us in our struggles today.

That fire spread to other areas of her life as well. It sparked her generosity in helping others to achieve their goals. Because she was never taught to swim as a child, my grandmother ensured that all of her children were excellent swimmers. Only after that goal was achieved did she finally take swimming lessons herself. My grandmother delighted in the successes of others. She kept a file of all the building projects Mike worked on; and if you asked her, he built the Getty, Staples Center, and Disney Concert Hall all by himself. When she moved to Fountain View, she taught the nurses and aids how to invest in the stock market. Over the years, my grandmother inspired so many people to dream big and work hard.

She never missed a birthday, a wedding, or a graduation. She beamed with pride when Michael Sean joined the Army, when Gina moved to Chicago to become an artist, when Jason graduated from UC Irvine, and founded his own technology consultancy, when Brett opened his trucking business, when Tula swam the Alcatraz Sharkfest, when Pat was on the Food Network, and when Chelsea gave birth to my grandmother’s first great, great grandchild. She cared for us all so deeply, her support was immeasurable, and I know that she will continue to guard and protect us from on high.

Whenever there was a need, my grandmother was the first in line to help, always giving of herself so freely. I know that I am not the only one who received letters and cards from charities, alerting me that Carmela Jill Masterman had made a donation on my behalf. As my grandmother’s belongings were packed up, my mother found boxes and boxes of cards, letters, and thank you notes from all the people that my grandmother helped -- from a new stroller for her housekeeper, to the loan for his first home for the gardener, the list just went on and on. When she was President of the Italian Catholic Federation, she encouraged my sister and I to volunteer at a spaghetti dinner fundraiser, and she was furious when we tried to put out a tip jar.

Travel was among my grandmother’s greatest passions, and she encouraged others to experience this wondrous world right along with her. When I was 15, I was selected to be a student ambassador to the Soviet Union. Many people attempted to dissuade me from going to such a strange and foreign place, but my grandmother’s encouragement ultimately shaped the course of my life. Her support enabled me to serve in Army Special Operations and obtain a degree in Russian. Years later, when I attended Moscow State University Law School, my 75 year old grandmother was the only one brave enough to come visit. She said to me, “Monique, the Russians have been our enemy my entire life, and now my granddaughter is living there, and speaks the language. I am going!” I still remember her expression of awe in seeing the brilliant colors of St. Basil’s Cathedral and Red Square in Moscow, the sound of her voice as she sang along to the music of the Bolshoi Ballet, and her sense of adventure in taking the overnight train with me to St. Petersburg to explore the treasures of the Hermitage Museum and the Winter Palace of the Tsars.

As my grandmother began to slow down, and was no longer able to travel, her children all journeyed to Florida to ensure that she was able to see her great grand babies one last time. Although I am fortunate to have had my grandmother in my life for 41 years, I am especially thankful for the week I spent with her last August, and for the opportunity to tell her how much I love her just before she passed away. In her final days, as her body was no longer able to keep up with her indomitable spirit, my grandmother was surrounded by her two devoted twin daughters, Marlene and Michelle, who nurtured and cared for her through her peaceful passing. She died on Good Friday morning, and you just knew that it was appropriate. Jesus was on his way to heaven, and so was Grandma, his faithful servant.

The ancient wisdom of the Kabbalah teaches that, at the moment of passing, every positive thought, word, or deed that occurred during a person's life is concentrated into a pristine spiritual light. This light is revealed to the world and in the Heavenly spheres, where it continues to shine and have an effect on those above and below. We can help my grandmother’s spiritual light to continue shining brightly by sharing goodness and multiplying our acts of kindness. You can love her most by ensuring that her garden continues to flourish. The Torah teaches that love doesn’t die, only people do. So when all that is left of me is love, give me away. May my grandmother’s legacy of love live on in each of us, and her memory be for a blessing.

Arrangements under the direction of Holy Cross Mortuary, Culver City, CA.