Today, in the Catholic Church, is the Feast of St. Joseph, husband of Mary and the foster father of Jesus. He is the patron saint of a happy death, workers, fathers, travelers, and immigrants. St. Joseph’s Day in our house was always accompanied by Zeppole di San Giuseppe (St. Joseph’s Cake). Zeppole are traditionally made from choux pastry, but here in the US, French crullers are more common. They are cut in half and filled with either vanilla pastry cream or my favorite, ricotta cheese, similar to a cannoli filling. They are dusted with powdered sugar and topped with a cherry.

Celebrating a person’s feast day is a widely held practice in Italy. It is mostly celebrated by religious families in southern Italy.

“For many Italians, celebrating one’s onomastico is just as special as celebrating one’s birthday, and for some, it is even more special. Onomastico means “name-day” in Italian, and in Italy, there is a custom where Catholics named after a saint will celebrate their onomastico on the same day as that saint’s feast day.” https://italianenthusiast.com/onomastico/

Chuck always was up for a celebration, so he wanted to celebrate on November 4th, the Feast of St. Charles Borromeo, but especially on March 19th, the Feast of St. Joseph (Chuck’s middle name), because it came with those delicious treats. Most years, Chuck would buy them at his favorite Italian pastry shops, but some years he made them himself. Either way, it wouldn’t be St. Joseph’s Day without indulging in a zeppole or two.

It occurred to me that Joseph was the perfect middle name for Chuck after reflecting on St. Joseph. St. Joseph is the patron saint of immigrants, and Chuck is the son of immigrants, being born five days after his family arrived here from Italy after a trans-Atlantic journey. Chuck was always so proud of his Italian heritage.

St. Joseph is the patron saint of workers, and I truly don’t know a harder-working man than Chuck. He began working at age 10 as a paperboy and never stopped working. He did whatever was needed to provide for his family.

St. Joseph is the patron saint of fathers, and Chuck’s greatest joy was being a father. He was so proud of his children and wasn’t afraid to sing their praises to anyone who would listen. Once he became a grandfather (Pops), there was no end to his love for his four grandchildren. He always told them, “I love you more.”

So on this, my first St. Joseph’s Day without Chuck, I will make my way to an Italian pastry shop after school, buy myself a zeppole (or two), and celebrate Charles Joseph DiCarne.