An Instrument of Grace

August 5, 1927 – July 3, 2023

Our beloved matriarch, the beating heart of our family, Dorothy Elizabeth Rubbicco, joined her cherished daughter, Jeanne, granddaughter, Terri Luanna, and love of her life, Peter, transporting across space and time to the other side.

An instrument of grace throughout her life, her emotional legacy is lodged in every cell of my being. 

Our Celebration of Mom’s Life in Provincetown was nothing short of wondrous. Although our hearts are absolutely aching, the lens through which she saw the world has much to teach us about what matters most in this life.

Dorothy “Dottie” Rubbicco

Thank you all for coming today to honor and celebrate our beloved Mom. Over the last few weeks messages have been pouring in from every facet of Mom’s life and I’d like to share a few with you

What a woman, what a life

We only have one mother and yours was the gold standard

She not only survived, she thrived

She was a total gem

The life she led defied the obstacles she had to overcome

Her Christmas cookies were a work of art and love

I fell in love with her from the minute I met her

She had a beautiful smile that lit every room

I remember watching her swim and saw her vitality and joy in the present moment

Perfect example of what a true mother should be

Her love created an aura that was felt viscerally by all in her presence.

No one loved more and no one was loved more

Love was our mother’s currency. She lived her life with open arms and her heart wide open. A devoted mother, nana, daughter, sister, and friend, Mom had an infectious and adventurous spirit, reminding us all that life is meant to be lived to the fullest. A tomboy from the start, she kept right up with her brothers in her beloved Provincetown- ice sailing, swinging on the Tarzan swing in the dunes, to the point where she almost drowned  near the Provincetown Inn, trying to beat her brother Ralph out to Long Point.

Heartbroken when her father moved the family to New Bedford, Mom travelled back to Provincetown every chance she got, staying with Ti Marion and Ti Marguerite, and she instilled that same love of Ptown in her 5 daughters. One of her favorite stories was when she took our Dad to Ptown before they got married. Somehow she escaped her Dad’s mandatory brotherly chaperone, and they rode bikes out to the dunes where they proceeded to “fool around.”

She was so in love with our father. Married at 18 and pregnant shortly after, she moved to Medford to live with my father’s parents, Papa Joe and Nana Spaghetti. Our Dad was out to sea most of that first year, and Mom not only desperately missed him, she missed her family back home. But as she had to do over and over in her storied life, she reconciled her pain by immersing herself in the things she loved. Ultimately, music, cooking, and entertaining became the unifying bonds that helped her adjust to her new life.

Soon she became the consummate stage mother to Kathy and Jeanne, faithfully taking them every Saturday morning to the musical comedy troupe at the old Berklee School of Music on Newbury St. Ever the supreme hostess, our Ripley Road home overflowed with music, Italian and Portuguese delicacies, family, and friends.

Although it was difficult for our parents to leave Medford for Chatham, Mom was thrilled to be back in her beloved Cape Cod. Balancing raising 5 daughters, a live-in mother-in-law, her husband, and volunteer work, her lust for adventure was never far from the surface.

Nicknamed by many as lead foot, she’d load Mary, Dori, and I in the back seat of her station wagon, no seat belts of course, and head out to Morris Island near Coast Guard Beach, racing up and down these towering hills and winding curves, the three of us screaming and laughing at the top of our lungs, “Do it again Mom, do it again!” Her irrepressible enthusiasm for life and ability to embrace the seemingly ordinary moments is one of the things I loved most about her.

I sat down with Mom in January to ask her a few questions from Steve Leder’s book, “For You When I Am Gone.” I asked, “What was the hardest challenge you ever faced in your life, and how did you get through it?”  She replied, “Losing Daddy.” She added, “Only God knows why these things happen. It was such a heartache. I’ve had a lot of heart ache in my life. I used to go way down to that front room in Chatham with the piano and just sit there. I fell apart. I just couldn’t cope. It took me awhile to get my head back together. But I finally bounced back because I had my 5 girls. Being together and having you all around me, and my mother and father, and my family, is what helped me. Family – to live together and take care of each other and love each other. That’s what helped me.”

And that’s what she turned to over and over, loss after loss. The loss of her boyfriend, Oscar, then a week later, her beloved mother. Her brothers. Her daughter, Jeanne, then her granddaughter, Terri Luanna.

Yet despite these profound heartaches she was able to reconcile the dichotomies of grief and joy, and her legacy of loving fully and fiercely permeated every home she lived in.

Especially Patton St.

Oh the epic parties we had!! Both sanctioned and unsanctioned. Our house was always bursting at the seams. On any given Saturday morning our friends would feast on Mom’s  fried flippers dripping with butter and sugar. Or Sunday afternoon dinner featuring her world famous lasagna and meatballs. But god forbid we get in the way when it was her turn to host bridge or scrabble! 

The kitchen was her hallowed domain. Rocks. Chicken & rice. Nut rolls. Bacalao. Ice box cookies. Linguica & string bean soup. Mississippi mud pie. The list goes on and on.

Inevitably, the piano would beckon and we’d make our way to the living room. Music was constantly radiating out our living room windows, and on any given day, you’d see the neighborhood kids gathered on our front lawn, intent on sampling a taste of the Rubbicco musical magic. Music was a part of the fabric of our lives thanks to our mother, and it’s what stitched our hearts back together when the fragility of life would come calling.

Our beautiful matriarch soon became a Nana, then a Nana Nana, leaving an indelible imprint on each of their hearts. Their favorite memories include Nana’s Chicken wings, constant music, crazy driving, trips to the carwash and Ponderosa, teaching me the proper way to set the table on Thanksgiving, the fake fruit basket at her apartment, dancing with Vovo at White’s, going to Winthrops where she would always buy me something, stopping at Nana’s  after church where she’d make me a tiny cup of coffee in a tea cup with a ton of sugar and cream and just a drop of coffee.

And she even had her very own private good humor ice cream man, aka her grandson, Andrew, who stopped by her apartment every week to ensure there was enough of her French Silk Ice cream on hand. And, as Nana required more company towards the end, my gentle giant would drop what he was doing, whenever I called for help, and head over and put on one of Nana’s favorite movies.

The night before Mom died, Dori, Mary, and I gathered in her living room one last time.

And we sang.

We called Kathy, and she played Mom’s favorite songs over the phone. I asked my husband to bring over some clothes cuz I decided to spend the night again. He arrived in the middle of our serenade, watching. Listening. Bearing witness.

He kissed her goodbye then texted me this on his way home but I didn’t see it till the next day.

“I was driving home thinking of all the years of pain and loss she’s had and thinking that she didn’t deserve that. Then a Tom Petty song came on and it brought me to tears. I’d never heard it before. It’s called Wldflowers and it basically said exactly what I was thinking.”

Dori and I listened to it after Mom passed on our way to Round Hill to take a swim in her honor. And we played it over and over and over. And I’ve heard it several times since, Mom reminding me she is with me. Always.

You belong among the wildflowers

You belong in a boat out at sea

Sail away, kill off the hours

You belong somewhere you feel free

 

You belong among the wildflowers

You belong somewhere close to me

Far away from your trouble and worry

You belong somewhere you feel free

You belong somewhere you feel free

 

So sail away my beloved mother. I can just imagine you dancing across the sky with Daddy. Thank you for the gift of your extravagant love and for teaching us how big love could be.