Marie Antoinette Devincenzi

Born on April 24th, 1940 in Brooklyn, New York, Marie was the firstborn daughter of a barber, MichaelAngelo Martinico of Castellammare del Golfo, Sicily, and Brooklyn-born Rose Angelina Martinico (née Galioto).

The family relocated to San Carlos, California in 1945, where, a few years later, three little brothers were born in quick succession, Frank, Joe, and Nean. Marie embraced her role as eldest daughter and older sister with ease, taking great pride in helping raise the sparkly-eyed boys, each a twinkle in her own eye. The troublemaking trio would reveal in her the maternal instinct for which she’d always be known.

Fiercely charming, enthusiastic, and clever, Marie made quick work of finding lifelong friends at school with whom she’d find a lifetime of hijinks, including a best friend, Joan Devincenzi.

In 1956, Joan introduced her best friend to her brother, Anthony Angelo Devincenzi, who had just returned stateside from four years of naval service as fireman on the USS Harry E. Hubbard. Anthony, who went by Tony, was tall, dark, and ruggedly handsome. Marie, a staggering beauty with a mane of thick, dark hair only a barber's daughter could have, striking green eyes, and a brow as mischievous and elegant as her character, was intrigued. The rest is history. The couple married at the altar of St. Charles Catholic Church on June 1st, 1958 (with Joan by their side as their Maid of Honor) before the pews packed with 500 of their closest family and friends.

In 1960, the newlyweds set their roots among the orchards of San Jose in a brand-new home on Le Bain Drive, the first on the street. A year later, they welcomed a bouncing baby boy, Robert Anthony, and then their little girl, Donna Marie, both absurdly adorable and absolutely adored.

Almost in step with the expansion of their family was that of the neighborhood, as the orchards receded and the blocks developed. Marie befriended the residents of each new house on her street as quickly as they popped up, stitching together a close-knit community of young families with her warmth, one home at a time. Whether she was shopping with Sue or watching Dark Shadows with Dorothy, kids were always in tow, the next generation’s lifelong relationships forming around her feet.

On Le Bain Drive it was always a houseful, a rotating door of family, friends, and neighbors that spun so consistently and quickly the three began to blur together. Marie’s parents, siblings, and their blossoming families were an evergreen presence, neighbors and their kids a regular fixture, guests a daily occurrence. She was every niece and nephew’s favorite aunt as if preordained by her own middle name, which they all shortened to “Ant.” Her home was home away from home to many, every child that entered it was loved as her own, and every guest was welcomed with the same swell of sweetness whether they were expected or not.

To describe Marie as an iconic homemaker would be an understatement. The house on Le Bain Drive was immaculate decorated, curated, and kept, every inch the product of her discerning eye, painstaking indulgence in detail, careful cultivation of comfort, and effortless ability to make all things beautiful.

She was the kind of cook that made you wish time would stand still, the pot would never empty, and that you always had room for just one more bite. Just as much the torch-bearer for old family recipes as she was the creator of new ones, she moved through the kitchen with her mother’s unbounded grace, seldom measuring ingredients, and always humming a Motown tune. Her cooking has been the subject of poetic waxing, rigorous study and diligent notes by friends and relatives, and perpetual conversation. Her kitchen has been the destination of innumerable long-distance drives. Her kitchen table has been the site of thousands of meals and conversations worth remembering, and a lifetime of late night laughs, heart-to-hearts, and conspiratorial chats that made whoever was lucky enough to be sat opposite her sleep a little easier.

Profoundly thoughtful and ever the perfectionist, Marie never forgot a birthday, and always found an occasion for a gift, wrapping each one with exquisite precision, in paper ranging from silly to sophisticated (always carefully suited to the recipient), and topped with a bow so perfect it could only have been tied by the wife of a former sailor. Everyone in her life felt spoiled.

In 1992, Robert and his blushing bride, Peggy, purchased the home just four houses to the right of Marie’s. The young duo were blessed with two daughters, Gina Marie and Denise Ann, those girls were blessed to grow up a stone’s throw away from relentlessly doting grandparents. As a grandmother, Marie was as unwaveringly supportive, present, and as nurturing as ever. Just as with her own kids, never missed a recital, game, play, or ceremony of any sort. If Robert, Peggy, Gina, or Denise weren’t at their own home, you could count finding them at hers.

Her knack for artful domesticity and was only rivaled by her flair to make anything and everything fun. Her calendar was always peppered with trips to Reno for slot machines and pink squirrels, and Tahoe for lakeside lounging in the sunshine with close friends. She was known to sign a niece or nephew out of school just to play hooky at the mall and get lunch. Her granddaughters were known to rush home after school to watch General Hospital with her.

Marie loved Rick Springfield, soap operas, all things Motown, and the film, Somewhere in Time. She loved sweet peas and carnations, always smelled like gardenias, and could fix your mood before you finished your Coca-Cola or mug of Red Rose tea. She was devoutly good-natured, wildly funny, seriously loyal, particularly but not picky, and magnetic beyond compare. She made a chicken soup that has moved many to tears, an eggplant parmesan that has inspired cross-country flights, and a rum cake so delicate and boozy you could get a little tipsy just thinking about it. She had a musical laugh, a lighting-quick, sweetly conspiratorial wink, and a heart as open as her front door. To know her was to love her, and boy, was she loved.

She was the first on her street in San Jose and sixty-five years later, she is the last to leave.

She is survived by her children, Robert and Donna, brother, Joe, daughter-in-law, Peggy, and grandchildren, Gina, Denise, Diana, Steven, and Timothy.

Funeral service will be held on June 21st, 2025 at 11:00am at Lima Family Santa Clara Mortuary, 466 N Winchester Blvd, Santa Clara, California.