My Italian Mafia

The Italians are a breed in themselves . They are most known for their clannish and obscure ways but when together , will exhibit loudness and a gymnast of hand gestures. I know , because two of my previous landlords were Italians but my favorite one is Donna,my friend.

I met Donna at my sister in law’s wedding a few years ago. Her boyish dark auburn hair revealed a chiselled face, an inquisitive nose held round rimmed glasses that covered her brown velvety eyes. Her thin lips revealed only a few shades darker than her fair skin, and the svelte frame gives justice to the way she moves about. Being same in age, we had so much in common, that our friendship grew deeper in the years that came.

She grew up in the Bronx and had the streets as her playground. Often reminiscing as a kid, she would relate how life being ‘in the hood’ was. She grew up tough and strong, surviving a hefty divorce from an Italian as well. She has none of those feisty, loud traits of an Italian, but instead, she displays one of a serene and melancholy demeanor. If there was a phrase to describe her it would be like a duck swimming in a pond, gracefuly keeping herself above water, but paddling like hell down below.

Donna has always been a people person. Always around when someone needed a baby sitter. A helping hand when friends relocated, and an assistant cook at parties. Sometimes even offering to drive for whoever needed rides at her own expense. She doesn’t like to be the center of attention, content to be oblivious, yet a team player to the max.

Working in the medical field has made Donna expose herself to a lot of Filipinos. Although Italian American, she has more Filipino friends than her own breed. She has attended numerous Filipino funfare and is not new to the ethnicity of our Filipino cuisine. But her own repertoire of eating habits is so limited mostly to chicken with an occasional beef. Her preference for food or lack of it is nothing religious nor medical. She just hinders herself from gulping anything that is a reminder of something cute. She will not eat fish because it will remind her of Nemo, nor much of pork as this is Babe, and she will never eat a rabbit because it reminds her of THUMPER and the fact that Bambi is venison is totally out of her list. Pasta and coffee is all she needs to survive on. And of course, she loves our Filipino pancit.

Last week, Donna had a mammogram test and was diagnosed with a suspicious carcinogenic cell
I’ve asked her how she felt after the news hit her and her answer was, “I don’t know”. What do you say to someone who was unsuspecting and was caught off guard by such debilitation? At these times no words of comfort or wisdom can penetrate the deep emotional roller coaster seeping into Donna’s innermost thoughts.

She has never questioned her God, nor even gotten angry, yet the proverbial challenge that she faces is the need to know what the near future holds , and what must be expected of her. Right now, she is only concerned with her daily existence, not planning for anything and not wanting to disappoint anyone for unfulfilled commitments. . I know she will not recluse herself, but will go on double time. Like an athlete, doubling her strokes to reach whatever goal she has in mind.
I am sure that many things come into her mind as of this moment. Her pain is my pain. Her sadness is my sadness. Her doubts are my doubts. And even the joys she will experience are my joys as well.

Yet inspite of all that is happening ,she is a fighter, she will do what needs to be done at all cost. And in the end, the two phrases she will be hearing will be, “well done, good and faithful servant……..you have fought the good fight, you have finished the race, you have kept the faith.”

That is the iron lady in the Donna I know. She is my ITALIAN MAFIA (Most Amazing Friend In America.)