Dear Mama
By
Mrsrossino4
KidsI'mgoingtowarnyounowthisisabittersweetstory.ItiswrittenformyfriendSunnyinoregon,butitiskindofsad.Itactually,though,isalsopartiallyinmemoryofmyownmotherJeannettewhowouldturn70yearsoldonOctober16thifshewerestillalive.Asitis,shewascruellytakenfrommeonJanuary1,1994atage52.Eventhoughwritingfanfictionisahobbyforme,italsodoesallowmetodealwithissuesthatoccurinmyownlife.Thankyoureadersforallowingmetheopportunitytodoso.
David Rossi never thought of his mother as weak. She had raised five kids alone when her husband passed away from a heart attack. Dave was eleven when that happened. Back in those days it was common that when the head of household died, the male children would leave school to help support their family. Constanzia Rossi, however, would not even consider it. She knew her children were meant to finish their education and make something of themselves.
He could say without hesitation one of his primary motivations in life was to make sure his mother's sacrifice was not in vain. Dave took every opportunity afforded him and made the most of it. Many in the FBI assumed he was simply an egotistical overachiever, but only those select few he allowed close to him knew the truth.
In recent years his mother had become sick and frail. Dave made sure his mother's bills were met every month, she was able to stay in her home and she had people to help care for her. It was his way of thanking her for the sacrifice she made to keep her children in school. It wasn't easy for her; she worked during the day as a typist for the city and at night in a dry cleaners. The expense of his mother's upkeep was nothing to him, as long as she was comfortable.
As he made his way into the familiar home, he saw his mother was still in bed. He stopped outside the door and spoke to Wynonna, a jovial round woman who had been Mrs. Rossi's nurse for two years.
"Why Mr. Rossi, your mother never said she was expecting you today. Can I fix you something to eat or get you anything?"
"No thanks, Wynonna. I got the impression from her last phone call the doctor didn't have good news. I decided to come up and ask her in person. How is she?"
The large woman frowned slightly. "Sir, it's not my place to say, but I'm glad you're here. She's not doing well at all, and I wanted to take her to the hospital but she won't hear of it. I'm very worried"
Dave had a feeling this was bad. His mother was not the same cheerful woman the previous night on the phone. "I'll go in and talk to her. Thanks for everything; you're doing a great job with her".
Dave then softly rapped on the bedroom door. He heard a familiar heavy Italian accent inviting him in. He walked through the door and looked at the tiny grey-haired woman in the bed. She did look bad.
"Mamma", he greeted the older woman and kissed her.
"Davey, what are you doing here?"
"Well, you didn't sound right last night, so I decided to come check on you. What happened at the doctor?"
She sighed and turned away from him. "It's nothing for you to be concerned about. It's just what happens, you get old and sick"
"Mamma, don't make me use that Power of Attorney I have tucked away in case of emergency. What's going on?"
"Davey, my kidneys have shut down. The doctor wanted me to consider dialysis, but I'm not going to put myself through that. They say even with dialysis I won't live much longer than if I simply said no"
Dave was stunned. He knew his mother was elderly and not in the best of health, but he never considered the fact one day she would no longer be alive. He wasn't sure how he could handle that. Apparently, it was time.
"Mamma, why are you refusing dialysis? You can do that and get a kidney, can't you?"
"They say I most likely wouldn't survive the operation, even if they were to find a matching kidney"
Dave stood up and started pacing. This was just too much to process at once. "Mamma, I'll give you the damn kidney, just don't give up!"
Mrs. Rossi looked dead into her son's eyes and was calm as she spoke. "David Anthony, I don't WANT another kidney. I've lived a full life. I'm tired, in pain, and I'm ready to go see your father. I don't want any of you kids trying to keep my alive".
Dave couldn't help but allow the hot tears of sadness and anger run down his face. "Mamma, I love you. I would do anything, do you hear me, ANYTHING to make your life better. Just please, don't leave us. Hell, don't leave me! I don't think I could handle it"
The older woman grabbed her son's hand and guided him to sit next to her on the bed. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him like she had so many times. "Davey, of all my kids, I love you so much. You made something of yourself, and you've taken care of me. I appreciate everything you've done for me, just please understand there is a time for everything. God has decided it's my time to join Him, please try to accept it"
He cried on his mother's shoulder for what seemed to be an eternity. He had consoled countless people when they lost loved ones, but it didn't make it any easier to know his mother's time was closing.
"Mamma, I promise I'll give you the best, most lavish sendoff to the hereafter anyone has ever seen"
Mrs. Rossi smiled at her son. "I know you will. Just remember Davey, I love you, and I will love you when I'm gone"
"I love you too mamma, and thank you for everything you did for us during our lives. Thank you for always supporting me, even in three crappy marriages"
"Son, just promise me one thing?"
"Anything, mamma, just name it"
"If you ever decide to remarry, PLEASE make sure she's NOT Italian. You seem to have bad luck with Italian women"
"I will mamma. And please, if you do see papa on the other side, tell him I love him"
Three weeks later Constanzia Rossi passed away at home in her bed. Dave was by her side, holding her hand singing an Old Italian song she used to sing to him as a small boy. He figured it was a good sendoff for her.
True to his word, Dave gave her a lavish funeral. She has a gold plated casket with so many varieties of roses it was almost vulgar. She also had a horse drawn carriage that took her coffin from the church to the graveyard for the burial. He also had a lavish after service lunch served.
Inside the coffin was a letter Dave had written thanking her for being there for him and his siblings to support them in their endeavors. He also told her in the letter the woman he was proposing to next week was indeed non-Italian; her name was Jennifer Jareau and she was about as far removed from that bloodline as she could get. Most importantly, she loved him for him, and not his money or status. He was sorry he never got the opportunity to have them meet and seek her approval on this wife.
He knew, though, she would have approved.