A memory was when all the Italian people of Smithdale got together on weekends and my Mom, Aunt Minnie and Aunt Annie made ravioli for the whole town. My Dad and his friends furnished the music. Dad played the mandolin and I was so proud of him.

Another memory of my Dad was that he was a faithful Pittsburgh Pirate fan. Win or lose, he still loved them. Every weekend when the Pirates were home, Dad and I would go to the game. I'll never forget the good times we had at the ball park.

My Mom was the most beautiful mom in the world. She had a routine that no matter what happened it never changed. Monday, she washed clothes; Tuesday, she ironed; Wednesday, she cleaned the upstairs bedrooms; Thursday, the downstairs rooms; Friday, the cellar and scrubbed the porches; Saturday, she did the grocery shopping. I could go on and on about my Mom. We spent many happy days together. If something went wrong, she was always there for me. When you lose your Mom or Dad, you lose your best friends.

by Carolina Tarantini