• Lucia L’Uccello

    When I think of Nonna Lucia, I always think of birds. She loved how free they are. How confident they are, as if they know a superiority comes with being able to slice through air and taste the sky. She would watch them for hours, sitting on the porch where she waited for me, every day, to come home from school. Her eyes would sparkle with sunlight as they darted from feathery body to feathery body, watching those Vs in the sky like they were her religion. Even though my chest seizes every time I think of her face, I so clearly can picture her long wrinkled fingers tearing up…