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When Annunziata said she loved me or any of her thousands of other friends and beloveds, she was really saying, at least in my mind, “God loves you.” To quote the singer/songwriter James Taylor, she showered the people she loved with love, always showing the way that she felt without holding back. Even as her body could barely contain her soul any longer, she’d open wide the gates of herself with a smile, that giggle, her twinkling eyes, and she’d let the supernatural love flow through her. Walking out of the chapel after her funeral, a woman I’d never seen before stopped me and said, “You’re Cathleen, aren’t you?” “Yes,” I croaked, tears rolling off my nose as I fingered the prayer card with Annunziata’s picture on it. Slipping an arm around my shoulders, the woman explained that she was one of Annunziata’s former students and said, “She loved you so much.” I know.
