My mother

[fpb]

My mother is, in some ways, Double Concentrated Essence of Mother. She can be hard to take even in small doses: opinionated (she is a classical Berlusconi hater), very difficult to hold back - one has to repeat about five times, at increasing volume, that one would rather change the subject - and so used to doing everything herself that she can't help interfering with anything you do yourself. ("Too many cooks spoil the broth, Mamma!" "Sure, Fabio. Now what we should do is....") And while I appreciate her concern for my health, I know that I am fat and worryingly overweight and don't really need it pointed out every seven minutes. But in the end, I am lucky to have her. She is loyalty itself, has put up with family members anyone else would have dumped, will always find ways to help when asked (which is why I do anything in my power not to), has the family love for books and music ("but they always look shabby!" "Which show you are using them, Mamma. There is no better evidence of illiteracy than a neat, well-arranged, well-dusted bookcase." "->laughter<-"), is livelier than most women one third as old, and is endlessly generous. There are people who would not be alive now if not for her readiness to take in waifs and strays; the most recent case being a completely broken-down, homeless contemporary who is so ill she can hardly walk, and whose only claim on my mother was that forty years ago she briefly nannied me and my sister. This woman is now my mother's guest until a permanent situation can be found for her. My mother can be infuriating, but when I heard that I went over and gave her a kiss, because I did not think words were quit enough. I hope one day I can be half as helpful to anyone as she has been to so many people.