There’s this Italian word my father always used to say whenever he was talking about a dead person: buonanima. It’s an expression of lament for those whom we’ve lost. He never pronounced the “u” and it always sounded similar to that song from The Muppets, “Mahna Mahna!”. But he said it often. It makes sense. The longer one lives the more grief one has.

I said it recently around some friends. These guys are Italian like me but they had never heard it before. Now, these guys aren’t a bunch of gabagool-eaters like I am but I still found it odd. Maybe it was a thing not too many people said or maybe my father had made it up. It wasn’t until I was watching an episode of The Sopranos recently that I realized I wasn’t crazy. Acting boss of the DiMeo family, Jackie Aprile Sr. had died of cancer. Tony, Paulie, Silvio, and Pussy gathered around and toasted their dead friend. Right before they downed their shots, Tony says it. “Buonanima!”

I can always count on The Sopranos for stuff like this. These little affirmations of all that is exclusive to New Jersey’s Italian-American culture. But while I can talk about The Sopranos for hours on end and likely will commit to something of the sort one day, this isn’t that time. I just had to pay them respect where it’s due.

I say this word a lot. I think it a lot. I think about the dead a lot. Just the other day I looked over to the spot in the living room where my father’s recliner used to reside. It’s not there anymore, hasn’t been there in years, but I saw it and him in it. I told him I loved him and missed him. I wish I had his wisdom to draw from as I try to figure my own way through life. Maybe I’m being greedy, but another 10 years with him is all I wanted.

Then there’s Melissa. I didn’t understand love until she was in my life. I thought I’d never know it again once I’d lost her. But I do know love again. Turns out it wasn’t so hard. It’s just about accepting it when it presents itself to you. I hope that she’s happy for me.

I’m always going to lament when it comes to these two. As time goes by and as the natural order of life unfolds, there will be others. It’s inescapable. The thing about grief is that you want to run from it and embrace with it all the same. The key is allowing yourself to feel it whenever you want while not letting it have dominion over you. What you feel is real, so just let yourself feel it. But don’t let it stop you.

Buonanima, Dad. Buonanima, Melissa. Here’s to the lives you lived, and here’s to the lives you shared with me. Here’s to me as I try and figure out the rest.