Solid proof
Forever 81By Gilda Cordero-Fernando
Tired of having studied all day and all night, my grandson Franco slumped on the other easy chair in my bedroom. He was carrying his book on civil law.
Tired of having studied all day and all night, my grandson Franco slumped on the other easy chair in my bedroom. He was carrying his book on civil law.
Frank Sinatra, the troubadour of his generation and its progeny, the generation to which I belong, sang the songs of our lives. Even the words he did not sing but simply utter, especially in the home stretch of his life, now resonate with me: I’m losing it.
By the time they were serving the first course in Hotel InterContinental’s Prince Albert Rotisserie, my dining companions and I were all dreaming of going to Sardinia. Which was understandable, considering the way Italian wine expert, Fabrizio Mennella Carcangiu of Mennella Group Italy, had just described his hometown.
They’re immortals. They’re happiness givers who lived and died bringing the “feel-good” and hearty laughter in our lives.
-01-FA.jpg)