It Was the Meatballs
A random memory...
When my grandmother was in the hospital, her husband came to visit. Their relationship was always, well, volatile (my grandmother had a mean frying pan backhand and Rosario knew his way around a bottle of Fleischmann's).
My grandmother was there in her bed, 4'11" of spunk ensnared in IVs and oxygen lines. Rosario came into the room and said, "Josie, when you coming home?"
She smiled and instead of answering, asked him, "remember how you fell in love with me?"
He looked at her and said, "yeah, it was your meatballs."
Her eyes lit up and the smile grew to a wide, toothless grin. "Yeah. My meatball."
She was dead within a week, and a little more than a year later, he joined her.
When my grandmother was in the hospital, her husband came to visit. Their relationship was always, well, volatile (my grandmother had a mean frying pan backhand and Rosario knew his way around a bottle of Fleischmann's).
My grandmother was there in her bed, 4'11" of spunk ensnared in IVs and oxygen lines. Rosario came into the room and said, "Josie, when you coming home?"
She smiled and instead of answering, asked him, "remember how you fell in love with me?"
He looked at her and said, "yeah, it was your meatballs."
Her eyes lit up and the smile grew to a wide, toothless grin. "Yeah. My meatball."
She was dead within a week, and a little more than a year later, he joined her.
posted by Andrea Beaudin at 3/30/2006 01:01:00 PM
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