Birth date: May 29, 1926 Death date: Oct 3, 2020
Leatrice (Vetere) Martorelli, 94, of Syracuse, passed away peacefully on October 3, 2020 at Upstate University Hospital surrounded by her loving family. Leatrice was born in Brooklyn, NY to the late Salvatore and Alice (Mancuso) V Read Obituary
Dear Ellen, Jim, Ernie, Frank, Cathy and Elizabeth, I was so very sorry to hear of your Mom, Lea's, passing. She was a wonderful neighbor and very kind person and a great friend to our Mom, Ruth. She was always so proud of each of you and loved to share news of your many accomplishments over the years. I am grateful to have known her and am deeply sorry for your loss.
Barbara Coleman
PS I loved the video tribute and all of the beautiful photos of happy times!
Martorelli Family
Mrs. Martorelli was a wonderful person and always a pleasure to interact with in person. The pictures of your Mom and Dad brought back some very fond memories. May she rest in peace and God Bless the entire Martorelli family through these grieving times.
Mike Toia
What a lady! I’m sure there wasn’t a time I saw her that she wasn’t t smiling! And, she was so sharp! She never forgot to ask about my sister Anne! I know my mother in law Marylou Fiacchi valued her friendship and always looked forward to seeing the Martorelli Family Christmas card come in the mail!! Mrs. Martorelli, Rest In Peace! You will be missed.
Joanne Pelletier Fiacchi
One of my favorite stories about Mom happened about four years ago, when she was turning 90. We were having one of our cross-country phone talks, me in Seattle and her in Syracuse. Somewhere in the middle of our conversation, I became curious about her turning 90. I asked her a simple question.
“Do you still drive, Mom?”
“Yes,” she responded quietly, without elaborating. Simple question. Simple answer.
A slight concern arose in me. I asked another simple question. “Have you thought that you might want to stop driving now that you’re turning 90?”
“No,” she said calmly. Another simple answer.
I took a breath, not sure how to continue the conversation. But then something else came out of my mouth, something I hadn’t thought or expected to ask, that gently shifted things in a slightly different direction.
“When did you learn to drive, Mom? Can you tell me about that?”
She opened up right away, no hesitation, and took me back to an earlier time in her life, a time when it was very unusual for women to drive at all. She was 32 years old, with a loving husband and six small children (the oldest only 9; the youngest less than a year), and understandably overwhelmed with the challenges of motherhood.
“Your father was responsible for driving us everywhere,” she said. “To the food store, running errands, going to church. If there was something I needed to do, we all had to go together.”
“Then, one day, everything changed,” she told me. “The whole family was in the car driving across the state to Gloversville to visit your father’s sister who was in the hospital. I don’t know what came over me, but I turned to your dad and asked him if he would teach me how to drive.”
“I just wanted to give him a break so he wouldn’t have to come with us all the time, driving me and the kids everywhere,” she said.
My heart went out to her, but even as I listened I could see the bigger picture of what she was saying. Yes, Mom wanted to learn to drive, but it wasn’t because of some need she had for herself or the family. She did it because she loved my father and wanted to help him. She wanted to take away some of his burden. She may not have thought about it that way, but for me, listening to her in that moment, I saw it as a simple act of true love for my dad. It told me a lot about who my mom really is.
But more than just giving my dad a break, I learned something else about my mom. Once she learned to drive, she also discovered something deeper and more personally important to her. Driving gave her a sense of freedom. She could move about and do all the things she needed to do without being dependent on anyone else. So she was not about to give it up easily, and surely not because she was turning 90 years old.
My curiosity got the best of me again and I asked the one question I think she hoped I wouldn't ask.
“Where do you drive, Mom?”
She paused. “To the hairdresser every week.”
I imagined this was the same hairdresser she had always gone to when she was younger, which was on the other side of the city. Then I realized this person had died several years earlier.
“How far away is your hairdresser?” I asked.
“A block and a half,” she replied, without missing a beat.
There was a brief moment of silence as we both realized her “ruse” was up. We both burst out laughing. Yes, indeed, Mom did still drive at the age of 90. It just wasn’t quite as often or as far as she wanted everyone to believe.
But it was more than that, of course. Just beneath the surface of her once-a-week drives to the hairdresser a block and a half away lay the real reason she didn’t want to stop driving. She cherished her freedom far too much to give it up so easily.
And she still is.
Mom, I hope you’re enjoying your newfound freedom right now. I will surely miss you. And I will always love you.
–Frank
The Martorelli Family,
Was so very sorry to hear about the loss of Mrs. Martorelli. She was always such a wonderful person and a pleasure to talk with at church. Always smiling and happy. Sorry I’m not there to give my sympathy in person, but my thoughts and prayers are with you all of you at this difficult time. With deep sympathy!
Dina (Toia) and Bob Gerardi
Ernie,
My condolences to you and your family during this difficult time. May you find peace in the memories you have of your mother/grandmother/sister/friend.
John Ferrante
Mrs. Martorelli, what a wonderful person. A great smile and her accent are some things things you don't forget. To all of the family, please know that she will always be looking out for you as she reunites with and holds the hand of your father together in heaven. Please accept my sincere condolences. Ernie Campagna
