Dolores can be an awkward companion for people to be around. Should they acknowledge her? The result is lots of people treading on proverbial eggshells - me worrying that I am spoiling other peoples fun whilst they in turn worry about me. She’s wicked, always causing mischief.
I meet the P’s for lunch. An unassuming Osteria with a migraine-inducing colour scheme; royal blue and red walls and staff uniforms of purple and yellow. Peeling paint, rickety chairs, chipped tables and the most fabulous food. Wonderful Chianti and perfectly cooked risotto - none of the rice pudding slop I have attempted in the past.
Despite the fact that Dolores won’t let me out come evening, Mum and I are content. Sitting end to end on the sofa wearing our pyjamas she tells me family history stories. I love this stuff. It’s so important to remember, to hand down. Part of me.
Katy
(U is for Unidos para la Musica - Roger Sanchez)
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