Married
27 September 1942
|
|
Married 27 September 1942 |
|
|---|---|---|
| Michael Scovotti, 1959 | Camille Scovotti, 1959 |
Eulogy for Camille Scovotti
I wish to first express my thanks to Father Bill for his graciousness in having me be a part of this service, of this Mass. I know that
the family of Camille Scovotti is also deeply appreciative of the ways in which he has attended to them in recent days, anf for his
visits with Camille since he came to serve this parish. Father Bill, the family is grateful for what you have done for them. On an even
more personal note, the Scovotti family has done me an honor by asking that I speak to the memory of Camille, as I know what a strong
presence she has been in the Scovotti family for over half a century.
Rev. Raymond Baughn, a minister from my own faith tradition, has written:"Something eternal is revealed in everything...Our story is
the story of earth and sun and humanity. Do we end when we die? Something eternal is revealed in everything.." What Rev. Baughn is
suggesting here is that each of our lives are also part of a Larger Life--the story of earth and sun and humanity, as he puts it. And
during the time in which we are given to live we are also given the opportunity to exemplify,and to share, certain eternal qualities
that will outlast our physical existence and will be passed on from generation to generation. So while it is a very tragic
loss-- with all of its attendant grief and pain--that brings us together on this morning, we are also called together to hold up and
affirm and celebrate the many eternal qualities that Camille Scovotti has left for each of you, and for all of us; qualities that will
long outlive her as they will be passed to succeeding generations.
The many meanings of Camille's life are far greater than what I can convey here; the presence of so many of you, both here today and
during the visitation times of the past couple of days, are as strong a testimony as can be given to the ways in which her life has
touched the lives of so many others. And when it comes to her life touching the lives of others no one knows better what that means
than her husband of nearly 57 years, Michael. I have not yet managed to even live 57 years; a marriage covering that span of time is
one to be praised many times over. Those of you who were in attendance with Mike and Camille celebrated their 50th wedding anniversary--at
a very festive event that took place not too far from here--may recall Mike addressing the many guests who were there by saying that they had
had, as he put it, "50 God-blessed years..." since the time he married Camille DiRusso. I certainly can't improve on that. Seldom have
fewer words said so much, "fifty God-blessed years..." along with those that came afterwards. And if Camille could speak to us now, she
would say, I am sure, that the past three years in which Mike was especially attentive to her and her needs, blessed her as well.
Camille lost her mother shortly after she and Mike were married--she had one sibling of her own; and the Scovotti family truly became
her own. She became the mainstay of the house and home around the corner from here on Hollywood Avenue where she and Mike lived for 45 years;
where they raised there four children, where they created a place of joy and happiness for their seven grandchildren. Her children--Nancy,
Ross, Michele and Mark remember her most of all as someone who was always there for them; as someone they could turn to on those many
occasions when a mother's presence is needed. Mark recalls that even when he was attending college and then working late into the evening
she'd be up when he got home, ready to prepare a meal for him.
One cannot, in fact, do justice to Camille's memory without mentioning food. Well before Mark was coming home to a late meal, she always
had a good meal waiting for Mike, no matter how late into the evening the demands of his work determined when he'd arrive at home. My own
dear mother,now 73 years old herself, is a fine cook but it would not insult her in the least for me to say that the best meals I've ever
eaten came from Camille Scovotti's kitchen. Some 15 years ago Michele and I bought a group of kids from the church I was then serving up
in Maine down here for a trip to New York City. I will occasionally run into one of them, and when we talk about the trip, for all we did
in the City, what they will mostly recall is "that great chicken dinner Michele's mom made for us..." The fish dinners for Christmas Eve are
also part of Camille's lore, and her most fondly recalled words from those years are, "Just shut up and fry, Mike..."
Beyond the kitchen was her garden--both flowers and vegetables--meticuloulsy and lovingly cared for for many years. Just a few weeks ago
she was talking about what she wanted to plant this year. She showed a gardener's patience in growing her plants; she also showed a
mother-in-law's patience when her daughter-in-law Carol accidentally pulled up her basil plants when she thought she was weeding the garden.
Speaking of which,I said a couple of minutes ago that Camille opened wide the doorto her home to those whom her sons and daughters married.
Perhaps it was her being well accepted into the Scovotti family that made her especially sensitive to the importance of welcoming in-laws
(or "out-laws) into her own. Whatever the case, she did it with grace and graciousness. Then, as also noted, came the seven grandchildren
to whom she will forever be known as "Coco". This became a name for her that, in fact, extended well beyond just being used by her
grandchildren. From the oldest, Matthew, and then Gordon, Michael, Thomas, Elizabeth, Daniel and the youngest Margaret; each of their lives
has been uniquely blessed and uniquely touched by having Camille Scovotti, as CoCo, for a grandmother. She found and made the same kind of
time, and offered the same kind of care for each of them as she did for her four children. Matthew particularly remembers many hours of
playing baseball with her in the front yard on Hollywood Avenue. He also recalls her covering for him when he put a tennis ball through a
neighbor's window. So, to know Camille as her husband, sons, daughters, in-law's, or grandchildren was to know her spirit of love and
acceptance; it was also to learn of the points beyond which she was not to be pushed. She had just the right balance of the kind spirit
and the quick tongue. She seemed to have a ready Italian expression for almost any kind of situation or occasion. I'm afraid I scarely know a
word in Italian, but usually I didn't have to. She got her point across whether you knew the language or not.
For all I've said to this point, it would not do full justice to Camille and to the ways in which we want to remember her, to confine those
memories to that of homemaker and devoted family person--for all the richness those memories alone contain. She was, as one of her son's
put it, a "Renaissance Woman." She graduated from Hunter College in New York at a time when a young woman's graduating from college was far less
commonplace than it is today. Her pursuit of knowledge and her interest in gaining new knowledge never ceased. While her husband was in the
United States Navy during the Second World War, Camille also served her country at that time through work on behalf of the Navy at the
Brooklyn Naval Yard. Intermingled with this were trips up to Boston to see Mike when he had a shore leave there. She and Mike became world
travelars. We tried to count up the other day the number of countries they'd visited. We got just past 20--and that was in addition to
numerous Carribean Islands--before losing track--but knowing there were still several we'd left out. She was especially fond of visits to the
Botanical Gardens and Bronx Zoo. She maintained her faithfulness to and appreciation for her Italian roots;and was for many years a part of
a group that met to converse in Italian as a way of keeping the language alive in their lives. As noted at the outset of these thoughts,
the number of people drawn to her by her spirit of friendship is immense--the past several days being a most eloquent testimonial to that.
I recently read an article by an Episcopal priest, the Rev. Malcom Boyd, where he wrote of spending time with his mother prior to her death,
and listening to her stories reaching back over the decades of her life. He closed his piece by saying, "(The) death of a loved one does not
take away (the) years that were shared. They live forever in our hearts and memory." And then he asks, "Could this be an 11th Comandment?
Honor thy memory." Part of what brings us together today is to honor memory, to honor that "something eternal" that was contained in the
earthly life of Camille Scovotti, and that lives in our hearts and minds today.
We come also to say "Goodby" to Camille's earthly life, and I'd like to close my thoughts with a poem by Carl Sandburg called Stars, Songs, Faces:
Gather the stars if you wish it so.
Gather the songs and keep them
Gather the faces of women (and men)
Gather for keeping years and years
And then
Loosen your hands, let go and say good-by
Let the stars and songs go.
Let the faces and years go.
Loosen your hands and say good-by.
Another of the reasons we are in this place is to affirm what each of us has gathered over the years of Camille Scovotti's life. And I am
going to venture a guess that her message for us now would be similar to that of Mr. Sandburg's: "Loosen your hands.." For it is OK to loosen
your hands, because of all that will still remain of Camille--of CoCo--in your hearts and minds.
May the memories of her life, and may the eternal qualities she shared with us now continue to bless the nurture each of our lives in the
days and years ahead. Shewould wish it so. So let it be. Blessed be.
Amen.
Rev. Stephen D. Edington
Annunciation Church
Yonkers, New York
April 16, 1999