Memories of Pizza
It was Memorial Day week end. The usual time Ms Alberta and I decorate the graves of those who have preceded us to the next life. Most of these grave sites are in Williamsburg, Whitley County, Kentucky. We have kinfolk there also; so we decorate the graves then visit our kinfolk.
Ms Alberta and I arrived late afternoon Saturday. We checked into our motel, then we decorated the graves of my father, Harold, my sister, Sharon Gail, and Ms Alberta's mother, (my grandmother), Myrtle – known all my lifetime as Mom Shoupe. We were going the next day to visit with our relatives who lived about fifteen miles away in Rockholds, Kentucky. Walking the hillside to decorate the graves was always a little hard on Ms Alberta, physically, mentally, and spiritually. Once we returned to our room, we both laid down to rest for a little while.
When we woke up it was nearer bedtime than it was to getting up time. We were both hungry and wanted something to eat. Since it was Memorial Day week end, we realized that nothing was going to be open. We thought about that for a little while; then I decided to go see what the vending machines in the lobby of our motel had to offer. There wasn’t much in the machines, the usual chips and candy; not at all what we had in mind. The desk clerk was behind the desk so I decided to ask him if he knew of any place that just might be open and serving something besides potato chips and candy to eat.
He was very helpful and told me the only thing open was a Domino’s Pizza place, just five miles down the road. He gave me the phone number and I returned to the room. I love Domino’s Pizza but Ms Alberta was not a big fan of fast food. She much preferred food that was cooked the “correct” way on top of the stove or in the oven. For that reason she allowed me to call in the order, so I ordered our large pizza the way I love it. This is a pizza that I call a Hawaiian Special; crispy, thin crust, with five toppings - pepperoni, black olives, banana peppers, bacon and pineapple. After the required thirty minutes I went to pick up our Hawaiian Special Pizza.
Once I returned to our room, Ms Alberta opened the box, gave me her “you know I don’t really like this” look, and got hold of a slice of pizza. I got my own slice of pizza and watched Ms Alberta as she had her first taste of the Hawaiian Special Pizza.
Her eyes opened in surprise and she hummed “this is good”. I watched in awe as Ms Alberta helped me devour the Hawaiian Special. We had been lifting the lid, reaching in without looking into the box, getting a slice and eating. Ms Alberta reached in and said, “Oh! Ann we’ve eaten that whole pizza all by ourselves!” Then she started to laugh.
Ms Alberta had one of those laughs that invited you to join in. I’ve seen the saddest person in the room hear her laugh and, not even knowing what was so funny, not be able to resist that laugh. They always joined in her laughter.
As good as that pizza was, it is Ms Alberta’s laughter that, after all these years, I still hear echoes of. Those echoes of laughter that still warm my heart also bring tears to my eyes.
I miss your laughter Ms Alberta, my dear mother. Through our Lord Jesus I will see you again one day.