Born in Pittsburgh, I grew up in an Italian family and surrounded by an Italian community. My early years were steeped in faith as I attended St. Mary’s Elementary School and Canevin Catholic High School.

My dad, the patriarch of the family, dictated that I could attend college only if I majored in education or nursing, so I entered Indiana University of Pennsylvania and earned a Bachelor’s Degree in Education. A year later, I applied for and received an internship position at the University of Pittsburgh where I earned both a Master’s and Doctorate. For seventeen years, I was Head of The Calverton School, an independent day school in Maryland.

My maternal grandmother, Carmela—an Italian immigrant from Basilicata who came to America in 1915 during the Italian diaspora—was my primary role model of steadfast love and strength. When life jumped the rails and I found myself collapsing under the weight of my older son’s heroin addiction, breast cancer and a bilateral mastectomy, my dad’s death, and the culmination of twenty-one years at Calverton, I journeyed to Rotondella, Nonna’s village in Basilicata. There, I found family and began to understand how she had become a woman of such grit and determination—the one who protected, loved, and held our family together.

Today, my two sons, Jeff and Jeremy, and my granddaughters—Iysa, Monroe, and my love-granddaughter Camryn—fill me with joy. My sons and I joined together to write Stay Close: A Mother’s Story of Her Son’s Addiction. Jeff—who is now nineteen years healthy—and I speak to groups in both the United States and Italy about the hope of recovery.

I divide my time between Annapolis, Maryland, and Florence, Italy. In Florence, I rowed with the Dragon Boat team for breast cancer survivors and served on the board of the International School of Florence. Currently, I’m a member of AILO, a women’s association dedicated to charitable fundraising, and a founding member of the Florence Literary Society. All four of my grandparents were born in Italy, and I hold dual citizenship through my maternal grandparents.

Our family has experienced both miracles and sorrows, but like Pittsburgh steel, we have survived—and remain strong. My sons and I have been through hell and back, but we’re still together—and still staying close.

Today, I live in a space of gratitude. Where there is life, there is hope.