I reached to grab the dinning room table in an effort to slide its stubborn leaves together. As it slid reluctantly together, it met in a glorious union of wood and fingered flesh... then, WHAP!!! Another hand had, just as quickly as getting pinched, slapped me for mine iniquity.
This was my first meeting with my wife Pamela's Italian grandmother, Phyllis. My first memory of her involves near aggravated assault.
Pamela and I were dating at the time, it was Thanksgiving of '99 when Pamela, her mother Laura and I made the twelve hour trip to Spring Valley, Illinois. The stories surrounding this wonderful woman prior to my meeting her were fascinating, yet a little unnerving. I couldn't wait to meet her, yet I was a bit nervous not knowing what to expect - or knowing from the stories that had been told me - from this fiery little Italian woman I had heard so much about. Ten years later I see why her daughter and granddaughter love her so much. What a terrifically fascinating lady!
Phyllis is having surgery this week and she is in our prayers!
Living so far away, we don't get to see her often. In fact, she's never seen two of my four children. Yet, in a way I see her every day. Every time Pamela's Italian temper flares at me, every time she throws a spoon at me, or shoe or coat hanger flung at me, I guess I'm experiencing a little bit of Phyllis all these miles away...
Phyllis, may God bless you and keep you. May He gift you and cause you to prosper. May His face shine fully upon you... You are loved and missed.
No comments:
Post a Comment