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Caterina – Heart of Care

A neatly swept front step. A welcoming garden tucked in for winter — plants wrapped and tended to. The soft hum of a bustling kitchen that has never really stopped being used. Homemade cookies arranged on a plate, all of it gave way to Caterina Pannesse’s well-loved home of sixty-two years — a home that doesn’t just hold memories but seems to breathe them.

Visiting Caterina felt like going home to my Nonna’s house. I settled right into the chair opposite this traditional woman, and though her 100 years have quieted her bones, it’s clear her Italian heritage still takes center stage.

“Un caffè?” Caterina asked as soon as I sat down.

Smiling — and knowing she wouldn’t be happy if I sat at her table with nothing — I gladly accepted. Growing up in an Italian household, I knew better. Walking into my grandmother’s home having already eaten was a rookie mistake I only made once or twice. I knew for these women, food is never just food. It’s care, it is love.

Born in a small town in the province of Avelino, Italy, Caterina immigrated from San Nicola Baronia to the United States. Like so many immigrants, she and her husband of sixty-nine years worked hard to achieve the American dream. He was a contractor, and Caterina a seamstress. They began their life in East Boston and moved to their forever home in Revere in 1963, where they raised their family with love, grit, and pride.

Caterina retired her sewing needles at 72, though her work was far from done. She prided herself on caring for her family. She kept up with the household chores, helped her husband cultivate a flourishing garden, and used the fruits of their labor to cook delicious meals that drew everyone to the table. As we spoke, I could almost picture baskets of fresh produce coming in from the garden, hands rinsing tomatoes in the sink, sauce bubbling low on the stove — the kind of smell that fills a house and signals home before anyone even sits down. With eight grandchildren and seventeen great-grandchildren, Caterina cooked for the masses — and did it with joy.

Caterina was one of six children. With longevity running deep in her family: her remaining siblings are 94 and 87.

“My grandmother was just months shy of her 100th birthday when she passed,” her daughter Rose explained.

Caterina wore her “100” crown and sweatshirt, ready for another celebration. Just days earlier, the family party was at Spinelli’s to honor her milestone birthday. When we asked about the gathering, Caterina replied simply to her daughter.

“Perché potrebbe essere meglio di così?”
What could be better than this ?

And really, what could be better than being surrounded by family and friends, celebrating a century of memories?

“Vuoi qualcosa da mangiare?”
Do you want something to eat?

Still concerned about feeding me — just as my own grandmother would be — Caterina continued to offer everything she had.

As we talked, Caterina’s daughters, Rose and Ida, laughed about the loving chaos of holidays as they prepared a Thanksgiving feast that doubled as a birthday celebration. Being born into an Italian family, we found common ground immediately. I can almost see it happening here: folding tables lining the cozy living room, draped with tablecloths carried home from Italy, their edges softened from years of washing and use. Plates piled high with food, the love language so many Italians take pride in. The clack of cards on the table as someone shuffles for a game of scopa, the Italian card game that somehow appears at every gathering.

The familiar sound of voices overlapping echoed— half Italian, half English, much like our conversation here at Caterina’s table.  Though Rose and Ida are fluent, I merely just get by with my amateur Italian. Though, much like a holiday at my Nonna’s house, it was clear I didn’t have to speak the language to feel the love in Caterina’s home. Homemade wine, full bellies, and scopa, and the holidays were complete.

We joked that we all ate organic food before we knew it had a name — our parents and grandparents grew their own food in the backyard, preserving it in carefully prepared jars. Tomatoes were a specialty. My own kids now enjoy the tradition of homemade sauce and admit there’s really nothing quite like it.

Like cousins, we laughed and shared stories.

“We had one bathroom with four girls,” Rose said with a smile. “We didn’t know any better. On holidays our cousins would visit from out of state. We’d throw mattresses on the floor; we had a ball. Those were some of our best memories.”

I nodded, remembering my own childhood — one room lined with ten mattresses so all my cousins could sleep over. Those are some of my most treasured memories too – just being together.

Caterina fostered a life built around family, and she created the framework for memories to be made, shared, and treasured. Food was pure and prepared with love. Times were simple. Family was the utmost value. Work was hard and responsibility was expected — but carried with pride. Company was welcomed and the door was always open.

Caterina and her children are the epitome of that.
And in her home, you can still feel it: love, warmth, tradition — a heart of care that has fed generations.