Remembering Giselda Forte

From Sue Van Leuven: “I asked Gilselda’s son, Mario, if he would be willing to have us put his eulogy for his mother which he gave at her service on our blog.  It was hard to hear in the echoing St. James, and people I talked with were sorry to miss some of the lines.”

“Mom’s  Eulogy (from Mario)

“Thank you all for coming to this service in honor of my mother. On behalf of my brothers and all of our family, I would like to say a few words in memory of my mother.

“Over the last few years, as Mom’s health slowly failed, I reflected on her life and came to believe that my Mom was, perhaps, the toughest person I have ever known. She was born in rural Italy, just after the First World War, into a world that had more in common with the 18^th century than the 20^th century. Her father was a small landowner and farmer. Their lives were gently shaped by the seasons and anchored firmly in their faith. Like other members of her generation she was witness to vast changes on a local and global scale. She died in a digital age that she could have never imagined as a child growing up in a town that boasted but a single radio.

“When she reminisced about this time in her life it truly seemed idyllic. Just as they do now, global events intruded. The rise of fascism brought in many changes. As a young adult she somehow endured the up close and personal trauma of a world war fought in her own hometown. As most of you know, the entire town and family home were destroyed. The family was forced to live in a cave for many months to escape the violence. Her only sibling, a brother, was a prisoner of war. She spoke sparingly of these events. Later in life, I suspected she endured much more. But I never wanted to ask her about these times and reopen the wounds.

“She met my father in her war-shattered hometown just after the Second World War. They married following, what by today’s standards, was a whirlwind romance. My mother, who had never been out of her home province in Italy, then traveled alone across the Atlantic by boat, caught a train in New York, changed trains in Chicago and somehow made it to Seattle to start a new life with my father. She was just in her early 20s. How many of us could have done this?

“She arrived not knowing the language or customs. The early years in Seattle were difficult for her. She was intensely homesick. My father’s family could be in turns supportive or the source of more anguish. She persevered and once again her inner toughness allowed her to prevail. She learned English and became fluent albeit with her own twists. Who can forget her difficulties with Tuesday/Thursday or occasionally confused Push/Pull. She learned the customs and for someone who grew up in a horse and wagon era, learned to drive a car. For those of us who had the experience of riding with her, she had her own style of driving. Her rules of the road did not necessarily conform to those of the State of Washington.

“Initially, it was feared that she could not bear children but in time she had three sons. My mother tried to be a good American mother but we were never a “Donna Reed” household. It was more like “ Moonstruck”. Mom could be severe and judgmental. But also, very compassionate. I always wondered why our family never acted like the typical American families we saw on TV. Later in life, I cherished, embraced and appreciated the unique and quirky qualities of our family. Although, we all probably still need some counseling to fit in to modern America. Who can forget the explanation: “We are not arguing we are just talking loud”

“My mother and father worked very hard. They provided us with a stable home and tried their very best to make sure we had the best education possible. This led all of us boys and also the grandchildren to success in life which we may not have otherwise achieved.

“Later in life, my parents were happy to engage with their children and a growing brood of grandchildren. They were indulgent in ways that didn’t seem possible when I was younger.

“My mother nursed my father through many illnesses including the final illness that ended his life 10 years ago. She then again re-invented herself moving out of the familiar confines of the family home to the Skyline retirement center. She mingled with a class of people far different from herself. Nevertheless, displaying the same tenacity and grit that she had during her first years in America, she learned the customs and became part of a new community. We are especially thankful to the Skyline staff for their kindness and help during the last years of her life.

“Throughout her life but certainly in her later life she was sustained by a deep faith that was born in a simpler less cynical age. Father Ryan became like another son to her. We will always be thankful for his kindness to her especially in her last days.

“As I look back on my mother’s remarkable life, I wonder could any of us have survived and persevered through what she went through, especially in her early life? I don’t think I was or am tough enough.

“My mother lives on through her children and grandchildren. She belongs to another time and age.  Mom/Nona, we love you very much and will miss you always.”