I didn't get a chance on the last post to mention that it, like this, posted at Elmira, NY on MOMMA_E's computer. Ah, the joys of dial-up.
Today, I met E's spunky 82-year-old, very Italian aunt. "How Italian is she?" you ask. Well, among the various jokes and stories she told between mouthfuls of Italian sausage and peppers, salad and wine, I heard the following names multiple times in every story: Joey, Pauline, Angelo, Mario (MAIR-ee-oh), Don somebody, two Catholic parishes, no less than three Father Somebodies, and "the Pollacks." She didn't bring out all the alcohol like I was warned she might, but she offered. "Oh, I got wine, don't worry about that." E tells me her aunt probably does drink too much. She denies it, but then proceeded to relate four drinking stories, two of which ended with her passed out.
But God love the woman. She's the best mix of sweetness, kindness and brashness from an elderly Catholic Italian woman the likes of which I haven't seen since I left Cleveland years ago.
Today, I met E's spunky 82-year-old, very Italian aunt. "How Italian is she?" you ask. Well, among the various jokes and stories she told between mouthfuls of Italian sausage and peppers, salad and wine, I heard the following names multiple times in every story: Joey, Pauline, Angelo, Mario (MAIR-ee-oh), Don somebody, two Catholic parishes, no less than three Father Somebodies, and "the Pollacks." She didn't bring out all the alcohol like I was warned she might, but she offered. "Oh, I got wine, don't worry about that." E tells me her aunt probably does drink too much. She denies it, but then proceeded to relate four drinking stories, two of which ended with her passed out.
But God love the woman. She's the best mix of sweetness, kindness and brashness from an elderly Catholic Italian woman the likes of which I haven't seen since I left Cleveland years ago.
0 comments:
Post a Comment