A cross-town excursion, a soldier who would never fill out his uniform. A tiny woman in a red polka dot dress. He made her laugh and laugh again, a number exchanged before the end of the line. One heart recognizing it's own beat in another. Commitment to faith, their One true love.
Ornella would bring nine children into hers and Jimmy's lives. Cross words never spoken when prayer and laughter could solve any problem. I would beg to watch their home movies as a new mother to learn the secrets of their parenting success. "Joy. It is as simple as that. Jimmy and I couldn't wait for the day to begin to see our children. Each was a precious gift from God. How lucky were we to be so blessed?"
The pattern of Ornella's days could be found in her kitchen. Blinds opened before dawn, coffee pot percolating, laundry to fold on the table. Breakfast eggs and toast, sandwich production on the counter, brown sack kisses, home after school. Freshly baked cookies, out the door again, wash up for dinner, prayers of thanks. Round table homework, baths on Saturday, kneeling on Sunday. Blinds closed with the last laundry folded.
When you looked at Ornella, she would be looking at Jimmy. If you looked at Jimmy, he would be looking at Ornella. You could see the tiny woman in the red polka dot dress and the tall soldier in a uniform never to be filled out. You could see their hearts beating together as one. You could see love in it's truest form.
Jimmy was called home first, and there he waited. Ornella was found not long after at her kitchen table, her window blinds opened. Young love waiting to meet again "When Harry Met Sally."
Jimmy was my father-in-law's best friend for 75 years.