Obituary of Bernice Motzi

Bernice Ann Motzi, a loving mother, grandmother, and friend, passed away after a long battle with cancer at her home of Tuesday night, June 22, 2010. She was 67 years old. Bernice was born in Everett the daughter of the late John and Susie Motzi. She grew up in a home filled with Italian traditions, food, and a strong sense of family. She graduated from Everett High School. She settled in Billerica to raise her 3 children. She had worked as a Quality Assurance Coordinator at N.E.N/Dupont and at Anika Therapeutics. Bernice was immersed in her children’s and grandchildren’s lives. She was not only a mother, but a best friend. She made a warm and loving home filled with delicious aromas, laughter, and warmth. Her home was often the gathering place of her children and their friends. Bernice was a fantastic chef and the dinner table was the gathering spot for family and friends. She loved the holidays and all the festivities, food, and traditions that went along with them. She was an avid reader, with mystery novels being her favorite genre. Bernice loved the beach and vacationing in Maine. After her retirement, she built her dream home in Ogunquit. She loved the being in the seaside community and its lifestyle. Bernice was the loving mother of Michelle (Harrison) Wilkins Bridges & her husband Tim Bridges of Burlington, William J. Harrison & his wife Nancy of Lowell, Christine (Harrison) Forziati & her husband Mario of Saugus. She was the lifelong partner of Kenneth Walsh of Ogunquit. She was the sister of John Motzi & his wife Linda of Newburyport. She was the devoted grandmother of Zachary Wilkins, Timothy Bridges, Nolan & Camden Harrison, and Mario & Richard Forziati. Funeral from the Edward V. Sullivan Funeral Home, 43 Winn St., BURLINGTON (Exit 34 off Rt. 128, Woburn side) on Saturday, June 26 at 9 a.m. Followed by a Mass of Christian Burial in St. Margaret’s Church, 111 Winn St., Burlington at 10 a.m. Visiting hours Friday 5-9 p.m. Interment at Ocean View Cemetery, Wells Maine on Saturday at 1 p.m. Memorials in Bernice’s name may be made to the North Shore Medical Center Foundation, 81 Highland Ave, Salem, MA 01970. Our mother went by many names over the years. Bernice, Ma, Mum, Mock, Bernie (allowed to only one person on the planet) Bakey, Dhabbie, but always “Mother” and “friend”. My mother taught “us kids” all the things that we really needed to know in our lives. That family is the most important thing. That anything worth doing is worth doing right. That you should always try, and if you do your best, you should be proud, no matter the result. To treat everyone how you would like to be treated. That everyone is equal. That everything has a place, and there is a place for everything. That hard work is its own reward. That dinnertime means everyone eats together. That you should always have enough for everyone. That the best meals were the ones you make in your own kitchen. Yes, food was always a central theme in our family. There was always something yummy for any meal and always something that could be “thrown together” in a pinch that would be better than any restaurant. The refrigerator was always stocked with anything you needed, and enough leftovers that you could just pull up a chair if you were that hungry. We never needed air fresheners because the house always smelled like something delicious. Holidays and birthdays meant traditions, and enough food for a medium-sized army. Every such get-together was preceded by “picky stuff” which was more than what most people would expect for a meal, followed by the real meal, with everyone always seated at the same table. And who can forget Thanksgiving when she would make an extra Turkey just so everyone could bring home a full set of leftovers. Or Easter Sunday with 17 different side dishes and oh, because Christine didn’t eat Lamb she would make a Pork loin. Or Christmas morning with pepperoni eggs and orange juice in champagne glasses. Or birthdays, with whatever we wanted for a meal, and our own special kind of cake. Those traditions were always part of our stories about Grammie, and “how it is we’ll eat it”, but Dhabbie continued the traditions, adding her own energy and special touches, and now we all hope to do the same going forward, with the stories we tell becoming ones about Dhabbie. My sisters and I all still believe that our mother could do absolutely anything. You could go to her with any problem at all, and she would find a way to get you through it. She could make a car go by just turning the fan, or get a washing machine to work using a broomstick. She could sense when any of us was doing something we shouldn’t, as we all found out, one way or another. She worked full-time, but still got us all to school , hockey, guitar lessons, etc., and still made breakfast, lunch, and dinner for everyone every day. The house was always neat, thanks to the invisible wooden claw, and we always had clean, ironed clothes to wear every day. She managed to put three kids through school and college, and made sure they always had everything they needed, all by herself. Looking back, she really was a Superhero, even though she couldn’t kick down a door with gold shoes. Once we all became adults, with families of our own, we all still went to Dhabbie when we needed something, whether it be advice, a recipe, or just someone to talk to. She always knew what to do, whether it be for a broken-down car, or a sick kid, or a flooded basement. We all learned very quickly that what she made look so easy and “normal” was anything but that, but with Dhabbie’s help, we also learned that you can always find a way. David, Tim, Mario, and Nancy were all welcomed, loved, and treated as if they were her own children, because to Dhabbie, they were. Her grandchildren, Zachary, Timothy, Nolan, Camden, Mario, and Richard, were constantly reminded how special and precious they were to her. There was always time and attention for everyone, and nobody was ever forgotten. Whether it was in Billerica or Ogunquit, family and friends were always treated as if they were in their own home. You have been through so much, and fought so hard all these years, all so that everyone else could feel so special. Now it is time for you to rest, and be at peace. We all love and miss you so much, and we all owe you so much more than any of us can say.