Nonno liked to ramble.

A fast paced almost jog that was impossible to follow.

Never noticing those once rapt listeners dozing off in their

chairs as he reminisced.

Hands that had seen better days folded in his lap, eyes cast towards the sky

as he spoke.

He would jump from one story to another, never quite finishing the first

before he started on the next.

And that is how you clear a room amore

he would say and wink.

Nonna was good at being the senile old man but even better at

being the clever Patriarch.

He like I knew that because of his age they would always listen

and would be found later asleep in their chairs.

What can I say amore I love my family but

I love my peace and quiet just a little bit more.


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