Pittston Dispatch // PD Columnists // Maria Montante - Maria Remembers

Sunday May 03, 2009 | 01:00 AM

Visiting Aunt Rose Chiarelli is always a pleasure and a joy.

My 90-year old aunt is a natural born storyteller that can hold your interest and fascination with life time experiences that date back to her childhood. There is much gusto, spirit, laughter and sometimes lessons to be learned in her words of wisdom.

One day last week on one of those cold, windy, miserable days my sister-in-law Gertrude Manganaro and I went to visit Aunt Rose.

We found her seated in the recliner in her warm and cozy living room. Her spirits were great.

After an exchange of kisses and the updates about our aches and pains we settled in to converse.

Today the conversation was not on the light side. For whatever reason she sensed or saw the need not to lecture but to offer words of encouragement.

In a matter of fact voice, looking directly at us she began with a theory that she had read in a book many, many years ago.

“In our minds there are three rooms.” I looked at her rather strangely and she retorted in her Aunt Rose voice.

“Listen, I’m going to tell you. In the first room is stored all pleasant memories beginning in childhood, time spent with parents, brothers, sisters, special friends, neighbors, and classmates. Memories of events that made you laugh, gave you pleasure, and made you proud. This is the room to return to when something is troubling you. Those memories will take your mind away and bring you smiles.

“Now, the second room is a private room called the bedroom. That room is sealed and what occurred in that room is for you and only you to know. Understand? Enough said about that room!

“The third room is a room that the door should remain closed. To open the door will reveal life’s physical and emotional pains, sorrows, disappointments, frustrations, anger, and losses of loved ones. The ‘what ifs’ and ‘maybes’ things that cannot be changed are in there hiding. It is better for you to stay out of that room.”

Each of us got her message and we remained silent and in thought. The silence of listening became a silence of stillness.

A few moments passed.

The next words heard from Aunt Rose, “Would you like a cup of coffee?”

Still reeling from the affects of her wisdom, we each shook our heads indicating no.

Silence prevailed once more until finally Gert asked Aunt Rose if mint grew in her garden. She further mentioned the mint in her garden which was always plentiful did not grow last year and her supply of dried mint ran out.

Chet who had now joined the group after returning from the gas station added that the mint in our garden has also disappeared.

“Not to worry, I have a whole patch of mint and I will give you some to dry,” offered Aunt Rose.

“This is how you do it. Pick the mint after a rain storm. Do not wash it for it is clean from the rain and there are no bugs attached. Place mint on paper towels for two or three days until it dries.

“When completely dried pull leaves away from stems and place in a brown paper bag. Seal the bag , place it on the refrigerator and FORGET ABOUT IT.

“ In a few weeks retrieve the mint from the top of the refrigerator. Gently place the mint leaves in a jar. Crush as much as needed when ready to use to get the full flavor.”

Aunt Rose reading my thoughts looked at me and said “never mind the drying I’ll do it for you.”

Mentally, I said THANK YOU!

When I left Aunt Rose on that chilly afternoon it was in a pensive mood. Never knowing where her stories take us this remarkable woman we call Aunt is unique.

She is a woman with strong convictions, deeply religious devoted to the Sacred Heart of Jesus and the Blessed Mother and is filled with a genuine knowing and caring of people.

Her devotion to the Blessed Mother dates back to early childhood.

As a young mother she was asked if she would consider sewing a cape that would be placed on the statue of the Mother of the Rosary when she was processed on her feast day in October. Aunt Rose happily accepted and for over 60 years she and Uncle Charlie prepared the Mother for her feast day.

She has passed on that blessed task to a couple she handpicked by observation John and Johnanna Borini Casper.

A few days later we revisited.

Chet and I found her in the garden with a potted plant in each hand. “This one is Swiss chard and the other is basil. I have the ground ready to plant them.”

She and Uncle Charlie planted a vegetable garden each year. It was a picture.

Every thing planted seemed to be in perfectly measured rows.

The love of gardening is now limited to a small plot of ground with a few tomato plants.

Baking bread is still on her itinerary. She cooks a hot meal every day, loves to read, watches professional football and basketball, lives independently, and is an inspiration.

Aunt Rose says her stories are plain and simple no fancy words.

Let me add the words that are simple, fancy, powerful, and meaningful: THANK YOU and LOVE YOU!

Maria Capolarella Montante, a lifelong resident of Pittston, shares her memories regularly in this space.