username + number cribunni + 630267
kalon name Evyn [ she/her ]
prompt
"My grandmother told me she loved me three times. She was a stern Italian woman with deep frown lines and a commanding voice, and honestly; I was terrified of her.
The summer before 6th grade, I stayed with her for the first time while my mom did traveling nursing. This meant I had to help out in the family restaurant. One morning she asked me to watch the stove while she bussed some of the tables. As it turns out, the cooking gene skipped a generation. I'm not even sure how it happened, but next thing I knew the whole pan was in flames! I tried putting it out with a towel, but I just managed to burn my hands badly. She eventually came rushing in and doused it with the fire extinguisher. I remember her kneeling down and hugging me with an expression I'd never seen on her face before. Later, while she wrapped bandages around my red palms, she said, "I love you, amore."
I was 16 the second time. After I came out to my mom, she urged me to tell my grandmother. I didn't want to. I was afraid of what she'd say, of how she would look at me. I hid it for as long as I could, but eventually, she knew something was up. I sat across from her at the dinner table and cried as I waited for her to speak, but she stayed silent for a long time. After awhile her chair creaked as she slowly stood up, walked around the table, and wiped the tears from my cheeks. "Non piangere. I love you."
The last time she told me she loved me, she was sick. I didn't know this at the time. We had gotten into an argument the night before; and though we bickered often, this was the biggest fight we had ever had. I begged for her to let me move in with her so I could move out of my mother's house. I was convinced that mom hated me and that I'd be better off without her. My grandmother was furious. She refused to let me move in with her and threatened to call my mother. I screamed back at her, as teenagers do when they're hurt and angry. I was so upset that I didn't notice how ill my grandmother looked until she fell to the floor. I called an ambulance in tears and she was rushed to the hospital. I sat by her bedside till the sun began to rise the next morning, when she finally opened her eyes. I cried and apologized over and over again. She laughed softly, and though she couldn't speak, I knew what she was saying. Because she was always saying it, even when she wasn't. "Ti amo anch'io, nonna."
The best thing my grandmother ever taught me, was not to tell people that you love them, but to show them."
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