Ma asked a lot of me before I moved out. Dishes, laundry, driving, various doctors appointments, anything you could think of, I was doing. Much like King Mao the cat, I was the unwilling and unknowing ruler of the house. However, when I told her of this trip, she didn’t ask much of me nor expect much from me. She only asked me for one thing—to find a ‘really good’ cannoli, to eat that cannoli, and to enjoy the hell out of it.
I wanted to eat it by myself for two reasons: one, I’m sentimental, and two, I eat like a turtle does when they get a banana. I thought I’d found the perfect spot in Assisi, then I soon found out I was wrong. It was a quiet cafe that served this signature flaky-crusted, chocolate-lined, creamy and quite large cannoli, but I had run out of time. I wanted to sit down and enjoy the cannoli so I’d be able to describe every last bite of the dessert to Ma. I cursed myself for once again falling back into the old routine of not following my mother’s orders, but I quickly realized I would have plenty of time to find one.
When I arrived in Rome, I’d honestly forgotten about the cannoli completely. In fact I think Rome made me forget about my mother altogether. But upon Mandy’s request for some brioche and jam, I remembered, and I remembered at the perfect time. There, right next to the fluffy brioche buns, was a crispy cannoli stuffed with Nutella and chocolate chips. I bought it without hesitation. It was three euros, but it could’ve been a million, I wouldn’t have cared, I would’ve bought it anyway. I didn’t even take napkins or a bag, I just yanked it greedily from the workers hands and shoveled it into my mouth without an ounce of hesitation. As it broke apart in my mouth (which I should have expected) II wished heavily like one would on a dandelion. With every bite it was as if I was blowing out seeds and spreading them back into the world.
I wish I could’ve taken you with me.
Another bite.
This is the best thing I’ve ever tasted and you’re not here to try it.
One final bite.
‘I want part of my ashes in Italy.’
I’m remembering old conversations and I’m eating a new food. For the first time in twenty-one years, I wish Ma was in my ear. I wish Ma could see the crumbs that lined my new jacket. I wish she was yelling at me to clean myself up. I wish she had the lungs to yell still.
I miss her the most when I’m cleaning my chocolate-stained face. I’m thinking about how we would’ve shared a napkin, how she would’ve grabbed my cheeks to ‘wipe the schmutz off.’ I would’ve yelled at her. Then we would have gotten another cannoli and probably taken a tums or two or six because we’d be two grown Jewish ladies in Italy trying to manage the food with our grown Jewish lady stomachs. I go to call her to show her the cafe and I go back inside to show her the plates of cannolis they have. I don’t know why I’m surprised when she doesn’t answer. It’s not the time difference, it’s just a difference.
I got a cannoli for Ma, and I got it for me, too. And it was good, and I was happy. I don’t know where she is or how she’s doing. I just hope she’s as full as I am.
I love that concluding line–“I hope she is as full as I am”–as well as the one about old conversations and new food–such a lovely way to capture the way this essay thematically moves between the past and present. As you look back on this essay, work to expand, contextualize, and clarify when necessary. Assume the reader isn’t on this trip and doesn’t know anything about Mao. There’s much to work with there–and Mao is certainly doing no extra labor, so there’s a contrast in your status as unknown rulers. There’s also some context for your mother’s illness, or that “distance” you mention, a line that strikes me as just a bit out of reach for the reader. Also, how does a turtle eat a banana? I think a description there would get us into some textures and details that would be funny, and maybe able to be tied back to your own ravenous moment in Rome. Also, offer more on that cannoli! How it tasted and felt–bring us to that moment!
Finally, I’d cut the line where you noted that you “quickly realized I would have plenty of time to find one.” Find another way to transition to Romer. This one seemed too easy!