Onion Tears

We have a family recipe book that I started about 30 years ago — with copies given as Christmas gifts that year. I got my Aunt to help me write-up my Nonna’s recipes, and added my mothers’ and my own.

But today I was trying to remember what kind of onions Nonna used to saute for sauce. And I realized there was no one left to ask. It brought my sister’s death to such poignancy it took my breath for a moment. I’m it now. Three generations of women consolidated in one tired, fairly worn-around-the-edges, nearly 66 year old woman.

And I still don’t know what kind of onions she used for sauce.

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1 thought on “Onion Tears

  1. You have written to my current experience, too, Laurie. I have many moments when I prepare to call someone who would know…only to remember that there is no one left to call. Being the oldest generation feels quite daunting and a little lonely, huh?!

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