Amelia Sacco
The Canolli Queen has hung up her aprons, laid to rest her utensils and has gone to the Great Kitchen in the sky, where she can cook and bake for all eternity. She’ll be bringing more than Mana to heaven and the angels will rejoice.
A widow for longer than she was married, she’s has been warming hearts with baked goods and astonishing us for as long as anyone can remember. At 87 she made 800 Italian cookies for a wedding shower. Three years ago she walked a mile for Ovarian Cancer, in memory of her youngest sister. Until her death she was cleaning her own house, paying her own bills, ever cooking and still entertaining.
More than an inspiration; Amelia was awesome in the truest sense of the word. Cooking, baking, family and people are her life force. Never missing an invitation to go anywhere for anything, she always arrived with appetizers or desserts (plural). Better than her coming to your house was to get an invitation to hers! Even if you had to work while you’re there — change a light bulb, install a dishwasher or fix the drippy faucet, — she rewarded you in abundance. Her table was always an array of dishes full of tasty gems; zucchini, eggplant, stuffed peppers, marinated olives, a frittata or cutlets, always a surprise, never a disappointment.
No slouch in the conversation department either Amelia could always tell you the latest celeb scandal or who’s running for what position locally or nationally. Her “frank and open” opinion of them all made for rollicking table discussions.
Amelia was the middle of seven Cappadona children of Sicilian immigrant parents. She out lived all of her siblings. She was raised in the Great Depression, worked as a seamstress in Boston’s garment district, married a man of the Greatest Generation, sent him off again to the Berlin Crisis and made her own contribution to America’s Cold War history. She is made up of the hardy stock we can only hope gets passed on through the generations. She is the last of her family, having outlived her husband, and her two youngest sisters and having survived Guillain Barre Syndrome at 85.
Her last name says it all: Cappadona. It means Head Woman or Boss Lady, and she is the boss. She has lived life on her terms. Amelia was a remarkable woman from whom there were too many life lessons to be learn; We all just did our best to keep up.
Amelia was the beloved wife of the late John J. Sacco. She leaves behind her daughter, Joann Sacco of Dorchester. She was a source of inspiration to three generations of nieces and nephews: Aunt of 13, Great Aunt of 19 and Great Great Aunt to 11.
A Mass of Christian Burial will be celebrated in St. Gregory Church, Dorchester, Sat., Dec. 17 , at 10 o’clock. Visiting Hours in the Dolan Funeral Home, 1140 Washington St., DORCHESTER LOWER MILLS, Friday, 4-7 pm. Interment Private. In lieu of flowers donations in Amelia’s name may be sent to any Food Pantry.
Guestbook Entries
Amelia was our very special neighbor. She shared
with us her kindness, friendship, affection, energy and optimism. She demonstrated how to be independent and to live a successful life while overcoming life’s hurdles. She always will be our hero and always will be close to our hearts. We send our sympathy to Joann and all the members of the family. Judy and David
I could not have imagined 25 years ago when two little older ladies moved in next door what an impact they would both have on my life. Mia was my kitchen guru, gardening buddy, a helping hand at any hour, a shoulder to cry on, David’s surrogate grandma, a great storyteller. She filled our lives with love and laughter and our bellies with the BEST foods. She drew us into her wonderful family, which meant the world to both of us. We will miss you more than words can say, Mia, but are thankful for the countless memories of all our time together. To Joann and all the family, my thoughts are with you.
Amelia was certainly an amazing woman. She was a wonderful and inspirational role model. I loved her laughter, independence, wit, charm and cooking. She loved to share cooking and gardening tips. I will miss her company, the taste of her homemade cannolis, cookies and zucchini bread, her tomatoes and green beans in the garden tied to the pole with an old stocking, and her smile.
We will miss our sweet wonderful neighbor. I am grateful to have known her and appreciate the time with her. Thank you, Joann for sharing your special mother. My sympathies to Joann and the family.