to
Rose Liberté
Over the last six years I've often wondered how and when I would meet my kindred spirit, my cosmic soulmate, my long sought after rainbow warrior, and companion. Since my life has been nothing less than synchronistic and miraculous since taking off on the butterfly path, I viewed this to be somewhat of a paradox.
Where was my sister, my lover? What was taking the universe so long? I once caught myself thinking, "God, I've been pretty patient, but I don't understand the wait. You must have something really special in mind. I can wait a little longer, but please asap."
Then on October 22, 2000 Rosanna Joy Piazza,
alias Rose Liberte, came into my life like a healing and graceful wave.
Ever since then she has emailed me almost everyday. I was flooded
with poems and stories and love and encouragement. Within three weeks
she was the most active member of the Butterfly Board. She became
an instrument and spokesperson for the butterfly dream, a dream of peace
and harmony for all humanity and living creatures on Earth. She chased
after that dream all her life. She touched all that knew her.
She was a loving mother of six children. When she recently came to
San Francisco to visit me for a week immediately after the death of her
father,
Augustine Joseph Piazza. The day
before his funeral there was a double rainbow in Bakersfield, Ca and Rosanna
showed me the picture on the front page of the local newspaper when she
got here. The image of her father peered from the opposite side of
the page facing the rainbow. She was really comforted by that.
Yeterday she sent me the finished copy
of our story that was about what she called "her week out of time." The
following morning I received news that Rosanne had passed, the victum of
an untimely and tragic automobile accident. I haven't stopped crying since.
I went to the hill that we last sat on
overlooking the San Francisco Bay, the
hill where we did a meditation. It was the first time Rosanna had a butterfly
land on her. In fact, four or five butterflies had landed on her
wrist within just minutes. So I was going back there to say goodbye,
to that magical place that we had found. When I got there a monarch
butterfly landed beside me. It flew away and then came back. I tried
to offer it my finger, but it flew away again. I have been back to
this place several times since Rosanna left trying to get a butterfly on
my finger. A few moments after the monarch disappeared another butterfly
landed by my feet. I offered it my finger and it obliged me.
It flew away and another appeared. It to hopped upon my finger.
After six butterflies had been on my finger I thanked the Universe
and left to go home.
Her children would like me to come for the funeral. I need someone to help me by loaning me the $300 for the bus ride. If you can help please call me at 510-528-7730. More important, I have decided to set up a memorial fund for her children. I would also like help in getting Rossana's last story published. That would be the best thing we can do for her and her children now. If it gets published we can have a side-bar story about the memorial fund. Rosanna's children are now my children, and I will do everthing possible to help them and get her poetry and stories published. The fund will he entirely for the benefit of Rosanna's children and for a butterfly garden to be planted in her memory in an appropriate place in Bozeman.
If you would like to contribute, please send a check to the Butterfly Gardeners Association/Memorial Fund to 1563 Solano Ave. #477, Berkeley Ca, 94707 or you may send your condolences to her children. Please write to Marissa Piazza, POB 141, Boseman Mt, 59771.
Please see www.woodstocknation.org/Memorial.htm
and <A
HREF="www.woodstocknation.org/advent.htm">www.woodstocknation.org/advent.htm
</A>
Please also read the letters below my salutation.
In peace, love and light
Alan
Subj: Rose Liberte'
Date: 02/21/2001 9:49:40 AM
Pacific Standard Time
From: maddypiazza@hotmail.com
(Maddy Piazza)
To: Bflyspirit@aol.com
I don't know you but I am Rosanne's daughter
and I was just writing to tell
you that the Butterfly that was my mother
has trancended her human form and
is no longer with us we will be having
a wake for her at the Dahl Funeral
home in Bozeman Montana Saturday the 24th
and a the funeral on Sunday the
25th if you are able to get away it would
be wonderful if you would come
since you were the last person she really
spent any time with in San
Francisco.
Madeleine Spence
From: roseliberte2
To: Bflyspirit
Dear Mr. Moore-
This is rosanna joy piazza's daughter.
i thought, since you and my mom were
in a close relationship, you should be
aware: last night, at 10 pm, my mother
got in a car crash and died immeadiately.
we are extremely sad, and in shock,
and would appreciate it much if you could
pay your respects at her funeral,
this saturday, in bozeman montana, at
dahl chapel. i know you made her very
happy throughout the time you two knew
each other.please come.
sincerley, marissa piazza
REQUIEM FOR AUGUSTINE JOSEPH PIAZZA
March 31, 1920 to January 24, 2001
(Read to him at his Memorial Service,
Bakersfield, California)
Father Dear Father
We thought life was forever
But you have shown us the Open Door
The exit to this plane of mortality
And entry thru the Gates of Immortality
To the Infinite Realms beyond...
Father Dear Father
We held your hands in your transition
Between life and death
The unreal and the Real
The mortal and the Immortal
And we remembered.... These are
the hands
That helped us walk our first steps,
The hands that added and subtracted
That taught us to rake leaves,
That showed us directions in life
The hands that first spanked us,
The hands that bowled and won trophies
The hands that showed us the way...
The hands that once rolled bochi balls
In the hot sun with his Italian friends
The hands that fixed Dagwood sandwiches
For picnics, on our travels through America
The hands that blended chocolate banana
milkshakes
That kneaded cookie dough each Christmas
The hands that prayed for Serenity
To accept what he could not change
The courage to change the things he could
And the wisdom to know the difference.
The hands that held rich sicilian pizza
and wine
With joyous gusto
The hands that lovingly grew
Cactus flowers and knew
A tender touch for children and pets
A tender touch for all he loved
A gentle man, kind-hearted too
A kinder man we never knew...
Father Dear Father
We anointed your feet with lotion
The feet that taught us our first
Dance steps
The footsteps we followed
And attempted to grow into...
Father Dear Father
We held your arms
The arms that first held us
The arms that hugged us
We held your cheeks
Burning with fever
Next to your warm smiling mouth
That always radiated the peaceful happiness
Of your warm Father flame...
You were once the little Italian boy
Riding high on the horse-drawn vegetable
wagon
Side by side with Grandpa Agostino
Vending produce--
You were once the good student
Smiling, adored by mother and sisters;
You were once the handsome young Italian
daredevil
Racing through the streets of Lincoln,
Nebraska
On your red motor scooter...
Marcello Maestroani, Perry Como, Julius
LaRosa, Cary Grant...
You were all the movie star idols rolled
into one for me...
You were once the devoted husband and
father
Loving, supporting and caring for your
family....
From the shores of Sicily your ancestors
Planted you in the Midwest
And from there transplanted to the California
Coast
You lived, spread love, and died....
From the rugged life at the turn of the
century
From the old world to the new
From the 20th to the 21st century
You watched and participated as civilization
and technology grew...
We your children love you Dad
And will never forget you
Our hero in Life and in death
Showing us every step
Of the way back home...
A former Knight of Columbus,
Now a knight in the Kingdom of Heaven,
With the Master now you stand
Surveying Earth below you
And all this world that Christ commands...
Dad, Dear Dad
I loved sending you poems
Now I must write them to you in Heaven
And send them to you in the stars
Forever looking for your smile
Twinkling high above this world of ours
With the angels, seraphim and cherubim
Radiating forever purest love
Standing with the Celestial Mother of
Heaven
"Salve Regina" high above...
Like the Butterfly from out the cocoon,
So we all must rise one day
Transformed and transfigured
Entering higher worlds that lay
Beyond our mortal gaze
Shrouded in veils, a mystic haze
But out there, gone, gone, gone beyond
The Divine Mother twinkles
In the shimmering pond
Of night
Surrounded by starry angels
Chanting canticles of beaming light...
ROSE LIBERTÉ @ 2001
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