- Share This Post
- Pin It
- 1
- 3
-
Sparkle (0)
Me as a baby at Grandma Carolyn's house
My regular blog readers have probably noticed that I’ve been pretty “quiet” over the past couple of weeks—no new blogs or recipes and only a few Facebook updates and “tweets.” Between the busy Hanukkah season and a terrible winter cold, I was exhausted. I was also dealing privately with a death in the family. Ever since I was born, I have associated this remarkable woman with Christmas and the holiday traditions of my childhood, so it’s a particularly difficult loss at this time of year. Today I’d like to tell you about my great aunt, Pauline Perozzi, and the holiday joy she inspired in the heart of our family.
As most of you know, I was not born Jewish. I wasn’t raised in any particular religion, but my mom’s side of the family has been Christian for as long as we can remember. My great aunt Pauline was a member of the local Catholic mission church; she was well known in the community as a warm, kind-hearted person. She was a member of the Farm Bureau for Women and the Red Hat Society. She played the organ and piano by ear. She was the type of person you were proud to call family; just the mention of her name brought a smile to everybody’s face. And, for about as long as anybody can remember, she has hosted our family’s Christmas Eve celebration.
Grandma Carolyn, Aunt Pauline, and their sister Phyllis (left to right)
It was from Aunt Pauline and her sister, my Grandma Carolyn (who we also lost recently), that I learned the importance of family holiday traditions. Pauline and Carolyn were born and raised near Big Springs, Nebraska. They were the great grandchildren of Swedish immigrants who moved to Nebraska in the late 1800’s. Pauline and Carolyn were farmer’s daughters; growing up they were taught how to can cherries and make noodles from scratch. When my Grandma Carolyn married her husband Robert, they moved to California and brought along Aunt Pauline, who was unmarried at the time. In this way, our family settled and planted roots in San Luis Obispo, California -- the same town I was born in, and my mother before me.
Pauline and Carolyn (2nd and 3rd from left) with brothers and sisters
At the tender age of 21, my Aunt Pauline was already considered an “old maid schoolteacher” when she met her husband Dennis Perozzi in 1952. Uncle Dennis is a farmer who raises beef cattle on his peaceful ranch in the rolling countryside of San Luis Obispo. Aunt Pauline was well suited to farm life, and also to Uncle Dennis. They had four children together and lived happily married for 56 years.
Pauline and Dennis get married.
From the time I was born we celebrated Christmas in the same way, spending Christmas Eve at Aunt Pauline’s ranch and Christmas day with Grandma Carolyn. Christmas Eve at the ranch was a particularly unique gathering that brought our diverse and scattered family together to celebrate in a magnificent fashion. When I was fourteen years old, I wrote a column about the experience for our county newspaper. Here’s an excerpt from the article:
Since before I can remember, the chain of events is the same. We meet Jake at the door, pet his hairy arthritic back, and coo to him lovingly. Jake is a good dog. Then in we tromp, chilled from walking through the wintery grass fields, to the fire-warmed Perozzi ranch house.
A stuffed cougar mounted above the Christmas tree seems to leer “Joy to the World” as we enter. The smell of boiling soup stock greets our anxious noses as welcomes are belted out from the group sitting around the dining room table. Hugs commence as my great aunt Pauline Perozzi passes out soup bowls. New additions to the family are coddled, the elders acknowledged respectfully, and dinner is happily devoured. My cousins and I head off to our own corner of the house while the adults talk about taxes and work and Christmas traffic.
Christmas tree at the ranch
The family piano is treated harshly as we experiment with “chopsticks” on the worn keys. When the piano becomes boring, we race to the hors d’oeuvre
