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.

2 thoughts 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?!

  2. It does indeed Martha — but sometimes things unfold with good endings. My step-mother (who lives in florida and is into her 90’s — saw my facebook post of this item and fb’d me that my father always used plain yellow onions, just like his mother did! So I’m less alone in my memories, because Irma has a mind and memory like a steel trap and is willing to share.

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