ROSE MARGE BASSANI

My Mother was born Rose Marge Brunetta, in Uniontown, Pennsylvania on April 8, 1919.  She was the youngest of a Sicilian family of 3 brothers and a sister.  After a flood in Uniontown, the Brunetta family moved to their permanent residence in Greensburg, PA, about 30 miles east of Pittsburgh.  As a young girl she attended Catholic grade school, the local high school while working in the family's Italian grocery store.  After World War Two, she met a young man at a picnic, who also worked at his own family's Italian grocery store.  That young man's sister had played matchmaker.

After a traditional Italian courtship, Rose Brunetta married Charles Bassani, in April of 1948.  This young couple was often seen at the neighborhood bowling alley, on picnics, and at the dance pavilion with their extended family and friends.  A few years later, their first and only child was born.  My mother broke from the Italian child-naming tradition and named me after the World War Two general, Douglas McArthur.  From that time on, my Mom was a devoted mother.  She took pride as a homemaker for my Dad and me:  washing & ironing my Dad's white shirts, getting me off to school, and making dinner.  At night, she would help me with my homework at the kitchen table.  Since Dad worked shift work at the family tavern and restaurant, there were times where it was just me and my Mom.  Maybe we would go to a movie, eat at a drive-in Burger joint, or get an ice cream cone.

Over the years, my Mom was the family cook for the holidays for both her and my Dad's sides of the family.  Even if it was Thanksgiving and turkey time, Mom always made sure we had lasagna.  For Christmas, it was spaghetti and Italian sausage to go with the roast beef.  Easter and ham?  Sure, but some fettuccini and meatballs too.  When it was time to eat, my Mom would shout out her inevitable phrase, "Everyone sit-down to see where we stand." When it came to her own time and hobbies, she enjoyed being a member of the neighborhood garden club.  Once, she entered a "fall festival" plant show.  She arranged fall plants, branches, and leaves, and then stuck my football in the middle of it all.  She won first prize at the city museum.  But it was with violets that she was magical.  She just had the gift to grow violets.

Once we had our first stereo record player, music filled the house from Frank Sinatra, Tony Bennet, and Dean Martin and the Lawrence Welk orchestra and big bands from the 1940's.

There were times when my Mother would show what a really special person she was.  One wintery day, we were driving to the local bank, when my mother spotted someone lying in the middle of an icy alleyway.  Mom parked the car and we ran through the snow to the stricken older woman, who had fallen on the ice and broken her leg.  Many drivers passed that same ally, but none stopped.  Just my Mom.

After spending her entire life in SW Pennsylvania, in 1992, my Mom and Dad left their hometown and moved here to Houston, leaving their brothers and sister.  Be she and Dad said, they wanted to be with their only son's family.  And this included, my wife Margaret's family, the Martin's, who showed my parents family love, kindness, and community.

What was typical of my mother was that she always there for my Dad and me.  Whether it was taking me to football practice or Boy Scouts, my Mom was there.  One winter, Mom drove two hours in the snow of northwestern Pennsylvania to pick me up from college.  My Mom's love of family was fiercely strong.  When my Dad was admitted into the Hospital years ago, my Mom visited my Dad for six weeks, every day, morning-to-night, for the 15 minute ICU visiting periods, until Dad passed.  Being single and living alone for the first time in her life, Mom showed her inner strength.  She became even more active in the Women's and Senior Citizen's Clubs at St. Ignatius, where she enjoyed talking to the member, the luncheons, bus tours, and events.  She also found time to become a cafeteria worker for the Klein School District.  Mom loved to drive to her hairdresser and visit friends around the Spring-Klein area.

Eventually, Mom slowed down.  She had moved in with us, and later reluctantly gave up her car keys.  She spent time reading home & garden magazines, going to church and events, listening to the choir, and telling us stories of her youth and with my Dad as we ate dinner.

Her last days were in the nursing home.  The weekend before she passed, we were sitting with her.  Mom usually had difficulty forming words and hearing conversations.  But for that one special visit, we conversed.  Her "yes's" and "no's" and "mumbled laughter" were heard and sure.  One of the greatest gifts I have ever received was that visit, talking with my Mom.  I will remember always that visit.  A few days later, she passed quietly in her sleep.

As my Mother's life has come to an end, my fondest memories of my Mother will be her strong devotion to the family.  Mom now joins my Dad.  They were great parents.  So to you Mom, with love always, your son.  Bye Mom.