Jeanne Manzardo 1924 – 2020

I met Jeanne Manzardo on October 22, 2019 and from then on I visited her regularly.

In the early days we drove out in my car, had a coffee and something sweet. She enjoyed the excursions very much. Getting in and out got more and more difficult, so afterwards we only went for a walk with the wheelchair. She also enjoyed the sun and kept asking if it wasn't too strenuous for me to push the wheelchair. She was so caring and grateful.

Whenever I came into her room she started singing: "oh du liebs Engeli, Rosmarin Stängeli" which she taught me. She sang right away and was very happy, then we sang, played and laughed together for two hours. How much she loved to sing and play games even though she almost coundn't see anything anymore. For me she was a sweet lady, even in the most literal sense, because she was always happy when I brought her something sweet.

I became very fond of Jeanne. She was such a lovely lady, cheerful, never in a bad mood and never a bad word, even if it was getting harder and harder for her to walk. She took her Schiesbadock (walking stick), as she always called it, in her hand, grabbed my arm and walked with me into the lounge while singing.
During the last couple of visits I was allowed to do, we mostly stayed in her room. She was always so touched after the video phone with her so beloved son Bruno (Marcel).

I am very grateful that I got to know Jeanne and I will always keep her in good memory.

Silvia Gemmet

The website for your mom is absolutely wonderful. Looking at the photos put me back in time when Tom, Dieter and visited her in Bern on one of the hottest days in the summer if 2010.

We enjoyed every minute of the day we spent together and especially the spark in her eyes and voice when she was talking about how much Bruno means to her and to realize how much she adores you.

She welcomed us with a wonderful breakfast in her appartment. We strolled through the beautiful rose garden. Despite the extreme heat Jeanne took us on the bus  and walked us around the beautiful center of Bern. We visited the Münster and enjoyed the great views watching people having fun swimming down the Aare river bend. She invited us for a wonderful lunch and finally we spent quite some time to watch the bears playing. We all had a ton of fun together and we could not believe how fit she was to be able to spend such a big day with us.

I am attaching some photos from the visit. It is fun looking at them.

Love

Karola and Dieter

Gross Mami (and, of course, Gross Papi) was one of the kindest people I had ever met. Our language barrier was sometimes tough, but it never stopped her from showing love and affection toward me and our whole family Every time we came to visit her in Bern, she always had such a beautiful spread of bread and jams and cheeses (not to mention she was always dressed so nicely with her hair perfectly manicured regardless of the occasion).

I was lucky enough to visit her a several years ago and stayed with her for a few days - she was a gracious host. I will always remember this story about her: I forgot my contact lenses as I left for my next destination in Europe and had to call her to ask if she could find them. She searched around and let me know she had found them. I told her I'd be back in a few days to grab the lenses but couldn't provide an exact date. Sure enough, when I made my way back to Bern, she was in the lunch room with the contact lenses right next to her four days later. She had brought them with her to each meal to make sure she could give them to me upon my return.

We also would communicate with her via google translate on my phone. I would type out sentences for her to read so that she could understand what I wanted to tell her. She was always so impressed with my written Swiss-German skills but could never quite understand why I couldn't speak it to save my life.

Gross Mami always treated Tom and me so well. There was never a time I saw her where I didn't walk away with a load of chocolate and a full stomach. I am honored to have known such a special woman and I invite all to celebrate her long, beautiful life that she lived to the fullest each day. She will be dearly missed.

Joe

As an old friend of Bruno (Marcel), I and my partner Regula visited Ms. Manzardo on Mother's Day in recent years and brought her a flowers, also in the name of Bruno. Of course, the old stories from Bruno and me at school were always included, e.g. building guitars together in the attic on Moserstrasse and many other stories were discussed. She often commented on such events with: “Oh verhudlet am Schatte!” (untranslatable...). And caused us to laugh out loud again and again. And over and over again she said, pensive and proud: “Oh mi Bruno!

When we left, she wished us “all, all the best” several times with her hearty manner.
And that's exactly what we wish her for her last trip.

Othmar and Regula

Marcel’s mom and I shared many things, but nothing more sacred than the love of her son.  I loved how she and Papi loved him.  I respected how they respected him. I admired how they admired him.  We also shared a love of cooking.  Mami could have been a master chef.  Her years in the restaurant and cooking for her family bonded us.  The kitchen was the main event in their home.

Like my Italian Grandma Mary did with my own mom, Mami taught me how to cook some of Marcel’s favorite meals.  While I’m still not great at fondue, she taught me to assemble a mean raclette array, showed me the secret of vinaigrette, and made sure I had his favorite chocolate chip cookie recipe.  The staple, though, was the red risotto recipe Marcel and his dad loved most.  Mami used to say, “Turi loves this risotto – it is from his mother.”

Standing in her small kitchen overlooking Bern, speaking to me in a mixture of English, French, and Italian, she showed me how to gently sauté the onion, chopped small, in a generous amount of olive oil.  From there, she carefully measured the precious grains of risotto into the low, wide pan, and mixed them gently with the onions.  She made sure to have me wait for the onions and rice to shift to translucence.  It had to be, “Just so.”

While that was happening, she created a broth, a Swiss national treasure, that would be slowly added to the rice.  First though, she added a dollop of tomato paste to the rice and slowly sautéed the paste with the rice mixture, then started slowly adding the broth to the rice.  The kitchen windows continued to frost against the cold outside.

She would say, “This is very important…you must always stir, continue to stir,” and then she’d break out in boisterous laughter.  I’ll always remember these words and her laugh in my head.  The crowning glory of the risotto was at the end, when she added the freshly grated gruyere, sometimes that we got in the country that day.  Before this, she would always make sure everyone was gathered around the dinner table, because once the cheese was added, that was it: It had to be served immediately, on warmed plates, with large spoons so that it could be easily managed on the plates.

Then people pass, they leave imprints on your life.  Mami is leaving one of the greatest impressions on me, and the most important is the love of her son.  True to our silent promise, we will continue to stay linked by Marcel.

Ten years ago, I went to visit Gross Mami in Switzerland with our close family friends Dieter and Karola. We met at her flat, and she greeted us all with big hugs. She'd never met Dieter or Karola, but it didn't matter. They were Bruno's friends, so they were family. Every time I'd ever gone to visit Gross Mami, we could always look forward to an immaculate spread of the best cheeses, breads, jams, and meats. The dining room would be set with beautiful China, and the meal would lay on a serving table at the front of the room. This time however was a special occasion. She wanted to go out to eat and show us Bern.

She grabbed her purse and cane, and at 85 years old, swiftly began leading the three of us around town. We hopped on the bus and stopped downtown at her favorite restaurant. It was an arched dining room tucked underneath one of the stone pathways that lined Bern's cobble stoned streets. I don't remember what I ate, but I remember her saying it was one of Papi's favorites. After lunch, we stopped by the Bärengraben. This was the new and improved version of the Bear Garden that was now situated against the Aare river. I watched her lean over and look as two of the Bears hopped into the river to cool off. She said something in Swiss German. I just smiled. She gave me a knowing look and then switched to English. She let me know that it was time I learned Swiss German. We were Swiss boys after all. Our last stop was the Rose Garden. I'd been there as a child, but I hadn't seen it in the Summer. She quietly puttered through the lines of colorful roses. Admiring the flowers and spitting fountains. It was one of the few times that I got to spend a day alone with Gross Mami. Of the many fond memories I have of her, I think this was my favorite.

I'm deeply grateful to have known and been in Gross Mami and Gross Papi's lives. Our trips to see them in Bern, and the Summers they spent with us in California are some of my warmest memories. They took us in as their own grandchildren and spoiled us with hand-knitted socks and sweaters. Most importantly, they showed us a different culture and way of being. We communicated in mixtures of english, broken french, and hand gestures, and it was perfect. They taught us more than I'm sure they knew. Gross Mami was remarkable and a true inspiration. She was talented, caring, hard-working and a generally wonderful person. I'm honored to have been her grandson.

Tom