This weekend feels… busy. It’s Super Bowl Sunday, the Winter Olympics are back in the mix, and somehow the whole thing is giving me major Grandma energy — in the best, warmest way. And on the coldest day of the year.
Picture this: Italian nonna vibes.
Small in stature. Stoic as they come.
Passive aggressive in a way that kept everyone in line.
Sweet… until you did something dumb. Stunad!
Then suddenly you were done.
But sports? Oh, she was emotionally unhinged.
Especially when it came to her Patriots.
She wasn’t the yelling type. No wild hand gestures. No coaching from the recliner.
But she was the “I CAN’T WATCH” type — even when the Pats were up by 20 points in the 4th quarter. I swear she invented dramatic tension.
She’d slowly slide her glasses down her nose, shake her head like the team personally offended her, and walk out of the room muttering,
“No… no… I can’t. I’m going to bed. I can’t watch this.”
Meanwhile:
Comfortable lead.
No danger in sight.
And if you pointed that out?
She’d give you the look — the one Italian grandmas use to remind you they survived a tougher childhood than you ever will.
But winter wasn’t just football season for her.
It was also figure skating season, and she treated the ice like it was a runway at Fashion Week.
Technique? Sure.
But she — and later, we — watched for the costumes.
Sparkles, mesh, velvet, satin, illusion sleeves — bring it on.
She was essentially judging a fashion competition wrapped in jumps, spins, and double axels.
And the spins?
Every. Single. Time.
She’d lean in, squint a little, cover her face with her hand, and whisper:
“How do they not get dizzy?”
Didn’t matter who was skating.
Didn’t matter the year.
Didn’t matter the country.
She asked that question like it was brand-new information every single time.
Then she’d sit back, arms crossed, satisfied with her conclusion:
“They are something else.”
No further explanation. Just that.
And this weekend — with football loading up tonight and skating replays filling my algorithm — I feel her around me.
It’s funny how certain seasons bring certain people back to you.
So that’s what I’m loving lately:
the nostalgia, the warmth (cuz baybeee it is colder than a mutha outside), the rituals, and the quiet echoes of the people who shaped us without ever trying.
If someone’s popping into your heart a little extra this weekend — I hope you feel them, too.
Hi Grandma.
💗✨
