The Oldest Word

The ticket hustle amused grownups. I remember my mom recounting tickets having come up ‘over coffee’ with another mom. The parent generation began their withdrawal from social life around this period. War impacted our area not through killing or destruction but the shortages of everything, to the point of having coffee to serve visitors being an issue. Dropping by unannounced was no longer a done thing. As the old etiquette ruled out arriving empty-handed, few families invited anyone over for fear of putting them through this inessential expense, which must at some point be reciprocated. I vividly remember my parents insisting the visitors ‘shouldn’t bring anything. That’s nonsense.

’ They must have said this a hundred times in my hearing alone. We kids were half aware of these unconcerned facts as we continued our socialization in the Nineties. Maria was brilliant, Tino was tough, I was hard-working, and Lana had the creative/dreamer subtlety. A more jaded culture might have made me suicidal. My sister, six years younger, had her scene. As we push for middle age, she can never be a part of our lives. A senior Millennial to our junior Generation X. We had been four-gate friends for years when those sirens sounded. Nevertheless, I realize why that recollection answered how my friendship with Maria Birinaldi began. On that day, a separate person sprouted from an organ in our group’s body.