My Nonni Is The Best Person

A few days ago my brother called to tell me my Nonni had a heart attack. Come to find out it was caused by covid19. I called her immediately at the hospital. She seemed to be in good spirits even with the garbage she was going through. As of today, she’s in a medical coma and it doesn’t look to great. I’m prepared for the worst and really fucking devastated.

I just jotted down a whole bunch pf reasons why my Nonni Pascale is the best person to ever exist, and it’s not hyperbole. This list is gonna be dynamic as I remember things through the day.

Geraldine “Nonni” Pascale was born in September 1945. World War II ended a few months later. She said it was because Hitler was afraid to fight her.

Comcast misspelled her name on a bill, calling her Gerdaline, which I think is the funniest thing ever, I don’t know why.

She read a lot, loves biographies of pop culture icons. The last book I bought her a few months ago was an Elvis biography. She read it in one sitting, or so she says.

She has a profound love for her children and grandchildren. When my Aunt Dawn got sick with Primary Pulmonary Hypertension, my Nonni dropped everything to nurse her, all while maintaining a 9–5.

She swears she’s never been drunk (which i don’t believe). One year for Christmas dinner, i made a tiramisu with too much Kahlua, She got drunk and admitted she’s been drunk before, refusing to ever acknowledge this again.

She was jealous of my tattoos to the point she scheduled an appointment to get a butterfly to commemorate Dawn’s passing, only backing out because her doctor told her her blood pressure medication would fuck with the ink, or something, I don’t remember.

She crocheted A LOT. All of the blankets in my room were hand made by her. She had a lot of free time since retiring about a decade ago and spent nearly ever waking moment crocheting blankets for cancer patients at Yale New Haven Hospital.

She was incredibly smart (kind of…)
She dropped out of school mid-high school to start a family. She recently told me that she was supposed to be the valedictorian, asking me what that meant.

Just after my mama’s tragic death, Nonni took me in to live with her, while she was also nursing her very sick daughter. She would do anything for her children and grandchildren,even before herself

She introduced me to Rocky Horror Picture Show
When I lived with her, she was shocked I had never seen it, made me sit and watch it with her. I was so confused as to what I was watching but new I loved it. Years later, playing Rocky, I thought of her, even though I wore a skimpy little gold bottom, confused, indeed.

She was incredibly protective of me
While living with her, I was dating someone I thought I was going to marry. That fell through and I was devastated. One night I woke myself up crying. Before I could gauge what was even happening, Nonni was hugging me, telling me everything was going to be okay.

Somewhere around the beginning of my teen years, my Father and I lost contact. She recognized that quickly and started picking me up every weekend to give me structure, which was me playing video games while she sat on the couch, talking to me.

A few months after 9/11, we sat on her couch watching the MSG Concert. Just a memory I enjoy in a dark time. Something felt bonding about it.

Our weekends were talking a lot but most importantly watching TOO MUCH TV. She loved police procedurals, especially Law and Order. When I was a featured extra in an episode, I had two tot minutes of screen time, her face lit up every single time I appeared.

For her birthday this past year, I bought her an Alexa so she could talk to something when she needed to talk. She seemed to love her Alexa. She told me she told Alexa things she hasn’t told anyone else. When I showed her the SNL sketch Alexa for Old People, she cried laughing saying “IT’S TRUE, IT’S TRUE!”

As a kid, I was into metal,rap and punk music. She was the only family member who facilitated my artistic directions. One day I took her to Hot Topic. Her brain exploded when she walked in and was shell shocked for months. Kidding, it was years.

I could call her ANY TIME I WANTED and she always knew the right thing to say. I called her two to three times a week for the last decade but even that didn’t feel like enough. I wanted to talk to her constantly. Sometimes I meant to call her but would have my day happen, then remember to call after her bed time. I’d sometimes go a few days without falling and feel miserable.

My phone has her number listed as “Home” and i never felt a need to change that.

She was terrified of being on highways. She’d clutch the door as soon as I go on the highway. This one I don’t understand.

When I was living with her, she got laid off from her job at HealthNet. Instead of saving her severance, she gave me exactly enough money to take my first sketch class with Ali Farahnakian.

She knew I wanted to be a comedian even before I did.

One of the saddest days of my life was when I decided to move to New York because it meant leaving her house and THE BEST FUCKING MEATBALLS YOU WILL EVER EAT. I won’t debate you on this because YOU ARE WRONG.

She begged me to write jokes about her. I had a hard time with this until finally relenting and writing a five minute set about it titled “Alexa Replaced Me As Favorite Grandchild.”

Paul Sorvino (Mira Sorvino’s father/amazing character actor) used to come to the PIT a lot, enough where i got comfortable talking to him about my Nonni and Italian American culture. Every time I’d tell him about her, he’d say something like “she sounds amazing”. I’d tell her and she’d joke that she would marry him.

She could cook like nobody else. Besides her, her office was a handful of Jamaican women. After talking food for a long time, she realized Italian and Jamaican cuisine had similarities. She started making collard green meals, but replacing it with escarole. I don’t know of other’s who have made Italian Jamaican fusion.

Her love of TV and food meant she watched a lot of Food Network, having strong opinions about each chef. When I started appearing on TV on Food Network shows, she’d call excited “guess who I saw on Beat Bobby Flay today?!l” The answer was never me. It was always “Sunny Anderson!”

She was 39 when I was born. She would tease my Mom that I was actually her son. Genetically speaking, I got my pretty blue eyes from her.

I’ll add more later.

tl;dr — my Nonni is the best person.