Sara Olson Obituary

As I sit here watching the monitors, knowing I only have a few more hours with my mother, my life with her is flashing by me so fast. My mind is whirling and I just can't seem to write enough. I would just like to share with you some things you might now know about our angel, our hero, our mother and grandmother; the strongest woman I ever knew. We were all so proud of her. Her name was Fortunata Ingraffia, AKA, Sally, AKA, Sarah with an "H," AKA, Sara without an "H." Most people knew her by "Sally." When I named my daughter after her against her wishes, she was so proud, that she became Sara without the "H" herself. She was born in Independence, LA on July 8, 1922. She married my dad in 1942 and they were married 53 years. She lived most of her life in Bridgeport and her best friends were Opal and Fannie there. When she moved to Garfield Ridge, she had great friends, especially Sophie, Stephie, Leona, Audrey, the 2 Annies and many others. At the end, she was living in assisted living in Maywood and made tons of friends, especially Eva. She had eight siblings, all with "Ingraffia" eyes. My Uncle Pete and Joe were her favorites, and my Uncle Pete was like the father she never had. He and my Aunt Gertrude were very special to her, always making sure she was okay. She had a strong sense of family and tried hard to keep us together. She had three kids, Bill, John, and eight years later, me (Shelley). She always tried to make sure that we didn't want for anything and she did the same for her grandchildren. She had two wonderful daughters-in-law, Rosemary & Rosina, a great son-in-law, Tom, and 7 beautiful grandchildren. Bill, Kristine, Dana, Julie, Elizabeth, Sara & Christopher. She was so very proud of them and wanted to be around long enough to see them get married or at least to see them all graduate from school because school was very important to her. She always had money in envelopes saved for them ahead of time when they did graduate. She would wrap it in all kinds of funny ways to surprise them. We had a dog, Tippy, for many years growing up, and she would never have another one after that because she said it broke her heart when she died. She worked as a cook in the convent at St. David's for the Sisters of Providence for 25 years. She was a great cook and she was famous for her jello molds. Fortunately, my sister-in-law, Rosemary, has the cooking expertise to take over that job. Her kids and grandkids will never forget her famous "burnt pork chops." That was the only way we would eat them. She was always involved in whatever she could be involved in and then some. She always made sure everyone was laughing and she was famous for her little "grandma" dance. She had everyone over for parties at our house, especially after Christmas masses, and we would all dig through old photographs and stay up all night, talking and eating. She was the organizer of many parties for the nuns and at the school and she had many, many friends. She then worked for the Board of Education in the cafeteria, taking 3 buses every day to get there, through snow and rain, until she retired. She didn't drive until she was 65 and stopped smoking 3 packs a day at 50 and never went back. A big highlight of her life was her 65th surprise birthday party

reunion, which some of you may remember. Her license plate said "ME" on it because that's the way she signed all of her notes that were always around the house. Now the grandkids write notes all around the house. She is the only person I ever knew that had coffee with her sugar and hated when the cup was filled because she needed room for the sugar. And if they brought it too soon or if it was bad, look out. She would never go back to that restaurant. She loved country music and the awards, especially George Straight & Brooks & Dunn. Her favorite comedian was Jeff Foxworthy. She loved roses, and really loved babies. Babies anywhere she would stop and talk to. She was always reading, at least one book a day, and she loved trashy novels, always telling us that she skipped over the dirty parts. Yeah, right. She also loved crossword puzzles. She ordered magazines so she could win the Publisher's Clearing House Sweepstakes and always wanted to win the lottery. She was very stubborn, though. She gave us hell about ever using a cane, a walker, or especially a wheelchair. She wanted to do everything herself, even after hip replacement surgery, and she did. She hated the fact that she would forget things, especially what she was about to say and laughed when we would fill in the blanks for her and she'd say, "Yeah, that's it." She always only carried cash. She never had a credit card or a checkbook in her name. Even when she would save all of her money so her and I could travel by train for three days sleeping in coach to go see my brothers in the service or take me to Disneyland, she would "hide" her cash. But she was determined to do things in her life, even without my dad. She also loved taking me to the Illinois State Fair and Nashville to see the concerts. We traveled a lot together, saving every penny she could in order to do it, and she traveled to Hawaii and took cruises with her friends from time to time. She looked forward every year to celebrating the holidays with my Godmother, Marie, Nancy, and Wilma and friends and family. Marie was one of her angels, taking her places, shopping, spending time with her, visiting her in the hospital, and especially making her a part of her family. We could never thank her enough. Growing up, everyone knew mom's voice in Bridgeport because they would always hear her screaming, even a block away, for us to come home. She called everyone "Doll." She couldn't cook Italian to save her soul. The blinds in the hospital and the house had to be closed a certain way and the sheets were always over her head because she liked it dark when she tried to sleep. If you came in a room and she didn't see you, she always said, "Oh, shit. You scared the hell out of me." She would hiccup so loud after one drink of Coca-Cola that it was embarrassing. She liked watching football, just to see the players' butts and also the workmen's culos (that's Italian for butt) that worked across from her apartment. She would always ask the grandkids what nationality their boyfriends were, and no matter what they were, they were Italian anyway. She would always ask the doctors the same thing before he could touch her and then tell him he was cute if he was Italian. She was always hitting on the doctors. She had her favorites, too, and they all knew and loved her craziness. We even made fun of her after her hip surgery for literally beating up security guards and the doctors because of medication as she was trying to get out of the hospital. She religiously visited her mom's grave (for 63 years) and other relatives and dad, making sure they were always kept up. She kept a braid of her mom's hair for 63 years in order to be buried with it and now I have a piece of my grandmother's and my mom's hair to be buried with me. She wanted to be buried in the ground near her mom because as she said, "The birds, the grass, and the 4 seasons are beautiful." Growing up, she saved all of my stuffed animals, wrapped them in plastic, and put them on many shelves in my room. She took care of everyone and everything and she was always cooking, cleaning, and very organized. I remember taking three buses with her religiously to go take care of my dad at the TB sanitarium. (Of course, we always stopped at the candy store so I always loved going.) She volunteered in the army in the canteen in WWII. When my two brothers were in the service, she wrote and cried every single day. She baked cookies and sent them to all the guys, along with other things all the time. She struggled with money to get me through an all-girls Catholic high school and for me to take piano lessons, but she was determined, as always, and came through. After my dad passed away in '95, she had a really rough 8 years in and out of hospitals. (We can attest to the fact that she was in more than out). She always had weird things wrong with her that either people never had or couldn't be fixed. And you knew when she didn't like you, especially certain doctors. She let you know about it. She was always worried about her hair because the medications would make it turn back to black instead of it falling out and she loved her gray. Gray was her favorite color. She would eat something and then eat it constantly every day, having to go to certain stores to find it, until she would get so sick of it and then finally go on to something else. Her Pepsi, her Mickey's, peppermints, Italian ice, and let's not forget the tamales. She would have the kids drive her to certain stores to get 3 pairs of the same thing if she liked it, especially shoes at J&R Variety and always needed a new purse. When she would take the kids to the movies (she especially loved Leslie Nielson with his Naked Gun Series), she would be the loudest and hardest laughing person in the theatre. She tried to convince us once that Pat Sajak was black because she read it in the Nat'l Enquirer. She loved her housedresses and her sweatshirts with her grandkids names on them. She loved her one glass of red wine with her Italian food and would also have one beer on a really hot day. She loved the winter and never wore a hat or gloves. She hated the summer. She was very simple, never wearing any jewelry and just a little blush and lipstick. She never needed anything else. She was blessed with beautiful skin, legs, and big beautiful eyes. I always told her that I had more wrinkles at 46 than she had at 81 and she would tell me to "Keep going in the sun." She was always critical, especially to Rosina and I about something. It got to the point where we knew what she was going to say, either about our hair, our clothes, my skin was too dark, we were too thin, etc., and knew it before she said it so we would joke and bet about it and sure enough, she would come through. She was a huge worrier too and I know that I definitely took after her. She had her theories too. "Don't ever dye your hair because when I did it, it swelled up my head, and therefore, yours will too." And she would use Vaseline on everything. I think her last highlight was a few years back when John & Ro took us to Michigan and she wanted to ride on the jetski (she couldn't swim). We dressed her in shorts and a T-shirt and off she went with Johnny, despite our oppositions. She didn't care. She was determined. She wanted to do it again when she came back. We were all a nervous wreck and she was laughing. Always smiling and making people smile. She also loved rollercoasters and rode on them every chance she possibly got. These last six months or so were pretty hard on her and her angels, Rosina and Marie, came through for her. My kids and I and Tom were fortunate to have her live with us for five years after my dad passed away, as was my brother John & his family. She survived almost all of her old friends, and only has 3 siblings left, but you wouldn't know it by the turn out at her funeral. People that we knew 30 years ago came out because they saw her obituary and said, "I saw your mom's name in the paper and I just had to come and pay my respects because when I was a kid and I forgot my lunch, she came and gave me a hot lunch and a cookie." Unbelievable. That's who she was. It was truly the greatest honor to have her as my mother and I hope someday I will live up to the standards that she set for us. I'm sure you have your wonderful memories of my mother, as she will be remembered by everyone that EVER came in touch with her life, even for a brief moment. It was a great honor to be her only daughter and we will ALL miss her FOREVER and EVER. She was and always will be MY angel.



Shelley

The popularity of the name 'Sara' is apparent everywhere, But there is still only one woman whom I am named after- One of the most amazingly multi-facited, beautifully strong woman I have had the pleasure to know,whatever crazy name you know her by- I know her as my grandmother. And she was much more than that. Although many of you remember her in your own special way, I like to think that she had and extra stroke in my heart- She carried a far louder beat in my heart than most people are aware of. You see my grandmother, in a sense, was much like a mother to me. She lived in my brother's room for as long as I can remember- babysitting, then child-sitting us. Watching us grow up, and helping us grow up. She knew my boyfriend Josh first hand, and she was insistant upon the fact that he was Italian, when he was in fact Jewish. She always told me we were going to get married, and after three years she wasnt very happy about our break-up. Grandma knew everything about me, because she was always there. There in the morning to cook breakfast- there at night to cook dinner (who dosent remember her famous 'burnt pork chops'?). There to yell at us, there to love us, and love us, and love us. She loved her grandkids, especially my brother Christopher- the baby of the family. Although It is painful for me to carry the knowledge that I will never again visit her and see her waving in the window of her new apartment, or call her and hear her yelling that she cant hear me, I am contented that she is finally in a place where she'll never have to throw a doctor out of the room (and I'm sure she's seeing all the 'coolo's' her heart desires now..)or get another test, or take another pill. Remember her how you will, but I know that I will always remember her exactly the way she would want me to: with a smile on my face and the comfort in my heart I once felt when she was here. She is an amazing woman, and I will never forget her- and I know that anyone who was blessed to have her footprints left on their heart will never forget her. I discovored a lot of things in my lufe that paralell hers- anyone who knows me well, knows I only chew Juicy Fruit... I will find something I like and run it into the ground, only to find something else to replace it and run that into the ground. My mother tells me I've got that bold personality she had, and I am so greatful that she can shine through me in such a powerful way. Remembering that laugh kind of makes me chuckle anyway... smile for her. She'd like that.



"Life is't always what it seem to be

Words can't express what you mean to me

In the future, can't wait to see

If you'll open up the gates for me

Can't imagine all the pain I feel

Give anything to hear half your breath

I know you still living your life, after death

Every step I take, every move I make

Every single day, every time I pray

I'll be missing you

It's kinda hard with you not around

Know you in heaven smilin down

Til the day we meet again

In my heart is where I'll keep you friend

Memories give me the strength I need to proceed

Strength I need to believe

Wish I coul turn back the hands of time

Still can't believe you're gone

One black morning

When this life is over

I know

I'll see your face..."

mom, you meant the world to me and my heart cannot be broken any more because it is shattered now without you. you will be in my heart and dreams forever until i see you again someday. i will visit you and grandma often and i will continue to take care of you both forever. i miss you so terribly but i know that you are finally with your mom and she will take care of you again now. You are my heart and soul forever and ever, shelley

Bill, John and Shelley,



My deepest sympathy on the death of your mother. Your mother was always a special lady when I was growing up with you guys. She was always a pleasure to be around.

That smile, that laugh, somethings I will never forget. The love for her grandchildren was never ending and we all knew that. I will forever be greatful for the times we shared. Live, Laugh, Love Forever. Kristine

Dear Grandma Sally,

I Love You so much. I miss you already and you haven't been gone for long. But I will see you someday again. I still can't believe that you are really gone. I wish I could see you one last time to hear your voice and see your face. You were such a caring and beautiful lady and I know that you will have a great time up there in heaven. I love you Gram.



Love Always

Elizabeth