After getting off the bus I had to catch another to get home. By the second or third stop I had a seat partner and she was a spunky lady with a black dress with tiny flowers all over it. Her skin was tan, her eyes brown, and her hair a few shades darker which gave her a rather sun-kissed look. She immediately started talking to me and her accent was truly interesting. After a few sentences I was able to understand her better and we started talking.
Immediately she gave me her life story. She moved here from Italy when she was 18 because she was married to a soldier, she was turning 70 this year, and her children were too busy with their own lives to help her go get some groceries. So she was going to go get some herself!
After a while we got to talking about death and how one shouldn't fear it because it is God's will and not our own--therefore if it is His will then He knows what is happening and we never will so why should we worry?
I couldn't argue with her logic so I merely shrugged and smiled. She talked about her grand children and the topic of my age and if I was or was not single came up. Then she described the many fine attributes of her 27 year old grandson who is a firefighter. Her 24 year old grandson is engaged so he is not available. HAHA.
When her stop came up she shook my hand and asked for my name. When I asked her for her name she said, "Rosa" I thought it was pretty and she scoffed and said "I hate my name. It was my mama's name and it was HER mama's name. I hate that name." I had to fight the desire to hop off the bus with her just to hear the story of why exactly she hated that name.
Ah Rosa, thank you for making that a wonderful bus ride!
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