There are those weeks where nothing happens, and there are those weeks where everything happens. It breaks my heart, the things that have been told to me this week. Of things that happened to friends I speak to every day. To friends a long plane flight away. To myself, even.My friend in Italy wrote me about the passing of his aunt. Well, I knew her not one bit, but I couldn't help but feel incredibly sad. I remember the day he brought me to lunch with his family. It was a beautiful spread, with multiple courses involving roasts and overly buttered pasta. This aunt arrived late, but with total flourish. She squeezed into a chair beside me, with large sunglasses and heavy jewelry. I remember her showing me her various fashion accessories and detailing exactly how much she paid for any of it. She had the delicious merriment of one who could never contain stories of good deals. And I understood only a little of what she said, because it was an accented Italian I was unfamiliar with. I still laughed a lot and nodded emphatically.
As brief and remote, it was totally memorable. I was glad Roby told me, because after all these years he knew I would care. He remembered I had met her. I wish that I could preserve the memory of that warm spring afternoon, with his aunt still as lively as she was, and that today she is still fromping around the Italian bazaars. But things change, people grow, time will push you.
Love’s on your list of things to do
To bring your good luck back to you.
And if you think that everything’s unfair,
Would you care if you’re the last one standing there?
And everytime you hear the rolling thunder,
You turn around before the lightning strikes.
And does it ever make you stop and wonder
If all your good times pass you by?
posted by Lucy Sloan @ 5:29 PM
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