Italo of Pizza Bella always took my hand to greet me with a kiss on each cheek and a genuinely happy smile. Touching was a big part of his connection to life. He calls you bella, says a friend just last week to me. That means beautiful in Italian, but he says that to all of the women he meets! Still, I always waited for the parting, Ciao, bella. He was my savior 3 years ago when I arrived on a Friday evening near Christmas only to discover that the woman who was charged with getting me the key to my rented cottage was no where to be found :( So, I had pizza for dinner and eventually told my predicament to Italo who assured me everything would be alright. He knew that person and she was a nice and good lady. But the evening rolled slowly onward. Lily was cleaning up and closing down the kitchen. Call her again. Use my phone. says Italo, but still no pick up. No problem. We gotta big house and extra room. We gotta cat. You lika cat?? I insisted on staying that first night at the Bridgewater motel, but Italo insisted on putting my suitcase in his trunk, driving me over, and waiting for the manager to arrive and let me in. What a lovely, caring thing to do for a mere stranger. That is the Italo I knew. He and his wife Lily became my first friends on this charming little island that I fell in love with in an Italian kinda way.... Ciao, Italo.
Posted on: Thu, 08 Jan 2015 13:04:17 +0000
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