PITTALUGA, Muriel
Muriel Pittaluga passed peacefully at home on Tuesday, October 12, 2021, surrounded by her family.
Born in Rosario, Argentina, Muriel and her husband immigrated to the US in 1965 and lived in Cedartown, GA where she raised her two sons. The family moved to Brazil in 1971, where they lived until returning to Georgia in 1979. She worked for Engineering Fabrics of Rockmart, GA, and later retired to Cartersville, GA.
She was a volunteer for both the Booth Western Art Museum and the Tellus Museum. Muriel also volunteered at her local library
where she taught English as a second language.
Eventually, she and her husband, Pablo, moved to Johns Creek, Ga where they currently reside.
She is survived by her husband of sixty-three years, Pablo L. Pittaluga, and her sons, Daniel C. Pittaluga (Wanda), and Pablo A. Pittaluga (Mary Beth), she is also survived by six grandchildren and three great-grandchildren.
She was a role model to the family and will be deeply missed.
The family will have a memorial at a later date.
In lieu of flowers Muriel requests donation to any of these churches: St. Bernadette of Cedartown Ga; St. Francis of Assissi in Cartersville Ga; or St. Benedict of Johns Creek Ga.
Messages of condolence can be made to the family by visiting our website and signing the online guestbook at gammagefh.com.
The Olin L. Gammage and Sons Funeral Home is handling the arrangements for Mrs. Muriel Pittaluga. I AM NOT THERE
Do not stand by my grave and weep, for I am not there, I do not sleep. I am a thousand winds that blow. I am diamonds that glint on snow. I am the sunlight on ripened grain. I am the gentle autumn rain. When you awaken in the morning hush I am the swift uplifting rush of butterflies in joyous flight. I am the soft stars that shine at night. Do not stand at my grave and cry. I am not there. I did not die.
— Author Unknown
“How many slams in an old screen door? Depends how loud you shut it. How many slices in a bread? Depends how thin you cut it. How much good inside a day? Depends how good you live ‘em. How much love inside a friend? Depends how much you give ’em.”
— Shel Silverstein