Carmela Castro

Our beloved Mother, Carmela Catherine Tranchino Castro “Millie” was called home on Dec 7, 2024. Her body served her well for 95 years, 8 months and 20 days. In truth, the last 2 months were getting harder and harder on her frail shell. It eases our loss to know she’s in the arms of our Lord, her cherished husband, her adored parents and all those she loved who have gone before her. Not having her here to hug and kiss is difficult for us but knowing she is freed of the discomfort she was experiencing gives us solace. We are happy for her now.

Oh, but what a joy she was to be around; even in her diminished state of dementia. She was always the favorite of her caregivers because her kind and loving self would still show through the fog of that heartbreaking disease. She never lost her sweet spirit.

Our Mother was someone who was always in constant movement. Being confined to a wheelchair her last couple of years was hard to watch knowing how she rarely sat down in her prime, even for a movie. Somehow, something always popped in her head as needing to get done and before you knew it, she was off to reorganize her closet before all of the characters in the story had been introduced. When we were growing up, organizing closets and drawers was an ongoing theme. Parting with things was a struggle for our Mom. A legacy she has lovingly passed on, in varying degrees, to her children. Thanks Mom.


Carmela began her long and blessed life on March 17, 1929 in Brooklyn, NY. Having been born on St Patty’s Day, she always said she was an honorary Irish lass. The first born daughter to Giovanni “John” Tranchino and Dorathea “Dora” Chiaramonte Tranchino. She adored her parents and her 2 younger brothers, Eugene and Carmelo. Growing up in Canarsie Brooklyn, she was among the fortunate children of the world who had Grandparents, Aunts and Uncles nearby to help form the loving sense of family she would carry with her all her life. There were so many beautiful tales of a young girl walking to the next street to visit with her Grandma or Aunts. She had sweet stories of her Dad waiting in the rain, with umbrella in hand to walk her home from school so she wouldn’t get wet. Her teenaged Aunts so loved her, they would take her with them on their dates! At 8 years old, she attended her first opera, Aida with them and her Mother, while her Father stayed home with her young brothers. There was always singing in the household where she learned all of the great arias. It was the best kind of childhood, filled with family, tradition, community and safety - perhaps lost to us now. She had an idyllic childhood.



In high school, Millie was voted “The Most Beautiful Girl” in her graduating class and the best dressed, too! Her seamstress Mother and Aunts would make her the most magnificent clothes from the fashion houses they worked for - she often looked like she just stepped off the pages of Vogue. She would reminisce with pride that she could go a full month without wearing the same outfit twice. This to the chagrin of her girls club members, the Social8s. One dropped out because she couldn’t keep up, but the Social7s just didn’t have the same ring to it.


This fetching young beauty caught the eye of our Father, Walter N. Castro Sr. when he was prompted by his Mother (who used to work as a seamstress with the Chiaramonte girls when they lived in New York) to attend a party where Millie and her cousin Marci would be while they were visiting California. Since he had friends he wanted to hang out with that night and attending a party of his Mother’s friends and their dorky daughters was not in his plans, he still dutifully (if not begrudgingly) brought his mother to the party. He described his seeing our Mother for the first time as the scene in West Side Story when Tony and Maria’s eyes first meet. The rest of the room and its occupants fell away. There remained only the vision of her.

Dad would keep us in stitches telling of our parents first date. He thought it was going to be an intimate affair of just the two of them out for a picnic on the beach. When he pulled up to the house to escort this bathing beauty, she emerged, picnic basket and towel in hand…along with every member of her traveling party. Her Mother, Aunts, Uncles, brother, cousins, baskets of food, bottles of wine, pots to cook the spaghetti, wood to burn in the fire pit to cook the spaghetti, all piling into my Dad’s jalopy. He scoured Coast Hwy looking for an LA beach where no one would know him. I think they wound up in Newport.

Luckily, their first “date” was not a deterrent for our ol’ Pops. After an appropriate 4 year and very long distanced California to New York letter writing courtship, his Bride was won. His proposal took place in church when they were both kneeling for communion in front of the Virgin Mary. No words were spoken, he simply slipped the ring on her finger. Mom would speak of it with a sweet, faraway look in her eyes.


They were wed at Holy Family Church, on November 25, 1950. Which happened to be the day of Hurricane Carol. Torrential rains, power lines down, a flooded church, telegrams of disappointed family and friends who couldn’t get through to attend, all forces conspiring to thwart their plans. They would not be deterred. Candles were passed to their guests who could be there to light the way for Millie’s proud father to walk his beautiful daughter down the aisle. She gathered up her train and held on tightly to her exquisitely handmade gown (again by her Aunts and Mother) of Duchess satin silk, hand beaded seed pearls on a delicately adorned fascinator/veil. The two of them looked like models. They began their life together with nature’s wrath upon them and heaven’s protections surrounding them. If the old adage that rain on your wedding day is lucky, then this marriage was deluged with it.

Although her years of Motherhood and homemaking took up the majority of her life after that eventful wedding day, somehow, she would find time to volunteer, to take classes (she was always curious) to sing in the church choir (she had a beautiful soprano voice) to attempt every craft, to paint, to experiment with every recipe found on the back of whatever box she had in her hands. When she would host a party at home or decorate for a committee of one of the clubs she belonged to, she had an adorable knack for creating festive settings. When one of her table vignette visions came together as she hoped, she would positively beam.


As a Mother Hen, she had no equal. She would sit for hours in the blazing Summer sun at the Covina Plunge to watch her children swim - she would never rely on lifeguards. She had a magical knack to grow whatever she took a cutting of and planted in whatever stationary object she found that would hold dirt. Unoccupied shoes were not safe. Her roses were gorgeous and fragrant, the lemons from her tree the size of a grapefruit. She could bring any neglected specimen back to life with a therapeutic stay on her bay windowsill.

Among her other hobbies was a stint in running an “antique” shop. In truth, it was a space in an antiques store front; and by front, I mean a front for unrepentant hoarders to use as an excuse to buy more things for their uncontrolled collecting. She would gleefully find something from a yard sale, rummage sale, or the classic “Bargain Box” find. Don’t get us started on the Bargain Box! She would then take the item home, polish, paint or even reupholster. Yes, she took a reupholstering class (while she was already legally blind) so she could keep her little booth stocked. She loved that little booth. She had fun adding to her hoard and yet somehow not - ya know since it was going to be sold…in a store…an antique store…cause they were “antiques”.

She legendarily hosted, at the same time, both sets of families, the Italians visiting from Italy and the Costa Ricans just up from Costa Rica, in their small house on Workman Ave. Eighteen people, 3 languages, 3 meals a day plus snacks, 3 children a dog and a toddler - all without Uber-Eats. This was back when overseas houseguests would stay for a month or more. Not to leave out the stunningly courageous feat of hosting Christmas Eve and Christmas Day - only to follow up the very next week with New Year’s Eve and New Year’s Day with all the extended family celebrating. We kids and cousins had an astoundingly fun time and Mom loved it. Dad probably did, too - regardless of his usual grimace in the pictures.

Our Mother maintained with ease lifelong friendships. One friend, Rosie from New York was her oldest friend since they first locked hands in kindergarten - a remarkable 90 years. She had friends from every club she belonged to and every neighborhood. To say our Mother was universally loved by all who knew her is not an exaggeration. Her dear and loving heart captivated all who were lucky enough to be in her presence.

Our Mother loved the Lord with her whole heart. Mom guided us through so many trials with her tender and loving prayers. Most times Mom would wake with her hands clasped, the way she fell asleep…praying.
Dear Lord thank you for our dear, precious Mother.


Among her friends and neighbors who will miss her, she is leaving, but will never be far from her 4 children, 5 Grandchildren and 7, soon to be 8 Great Grandchildren. There are sons- in-laws, daughters-in-laws, grandchildren-in-laws, cousins, nieces and nephews all touched by her. She is often described as a second Mother to many of this brood. For us, her children, she is our most dear Mother. She is comfort and caring personified. What all good Mom’s are supposed to be and more. We will miss seeing her. Even though, toward the end, she eventually often didn’t know us, her eyes were still expressive and loving. Being near her still brought the comfort a child needs from their Mother.
We were blessed.


Rosary and viewing will be held at Forest Lawn, Covina on Sunday 1/12/25 from 6pm to 8pm in the Magnolia Room

Funeral Service will be held at Forest Lawn, Covina on Monday 1/13/25 at 2:30pm in the Church of our Heritage
Dinner reception following at the
Via Verde Country Club

In lieu of flowers, a donation to the Alzheimer’s Association in our Mother’s name would be most appreciated.