Memory…
Monday, August 18, 2025
Francavilla al Mare, Italy
It had been six months since Michael died.
From the apartment of Mario Tatasciore where I was staying,
I watched the nuns in the garden of their summer respite house
on the beach, as they gathered silently for the beginning of their evening prayers –
While next-door at Mambo Beach Bar, they cranked up some Italian techno trash
—a remix of “I Will Survive.”
Ave Maria….
Oh no not I….
Pieno di grazia….
I will survive…
Il Signore é con te..
And now tonight: celebrations in honor of San Franco -Patrono della Città!
But first dinner at the ever popular “Nonna. Clara” And who, but I, had the
‘colglioni to go to the restaurant at 6:30 without a reservation and ask
for a table for one at 8:30… On the most popular night of the year??
As long as I know how to love..
Tu sei benedetta fra le donne…
I know I’ll stay alive
e benedetto è il frutto
…….. Well,
There I sat, facing the door, watching people come in, as if I were il padrone.
Outside the windows, fireworks waited to fill the dark sky. But I was content.
I thought about the plates before me.
As the city’s saint watched over me, I devoured the best pasta
aglio e olio and alici marinati evah!
Santa Maria, Madre di Dio,
And I’ll survive……
I, I, I will survive!
by Philip Graziano
9/7/26
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