Tuesday, March 20, 2012

Clementina Graziano Signorelli

When I was only ten, my father's mother passed away March 28th 1970, at 52 years old.  She had originally developed breast cancer, which developed later into brain cancer.  I have two very vivid memories with her.  One, when I visited for a weekend, and she and I painted a cocktail platter; it had a black background with an outline of flowers, but it was not paint-by-number.  They gave a photo with three or four suggested samples of what the finished platter could look like, and she and I seemed to spend hours painting that platter.  Second, on another weekend I visited and slept over, I had  been sitting literally at her feet when she sat in her reading chair where she beaded .... flowers .... small, intricate, decorative flowers.  I sat in awe watching her thread and bead, not knowing what the end result would be, until she wired them all together.  She was a seamstress by trade, but also a soulfully creative woman who shared so much with me before I was ten.  I am saddened that I was not able to "grow-up" with her, but blessed to have know her and received her gifts, including our writing poetry together, or actually making it up while she was sitting next to me as I fell asleep in her home.

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