Too Late
Back in 1998, I met a foreman on a job site.
Nice long Italian last name.
He actually spoke broken English because he was an off-the-boat Italian guy.
We hit it off because we talked homemade sausage and about twenty different sauces that we made for our families.
He was also a good worker...
...and didn’t ever want an OSHA violation or an injured worker.
He called me every week.
I helped him a lot.
In 2010, he called with some bad news.
“I have leukemia,” he said. He was about 55 when they broke the news. Kids, grandkids and a wife.
“Damn!”
“I’m good,” he said. “They caught it early. I’ll be good as new.”
And he was.
We had lunch in 2016. He looked great. Back to work. We had a bowl of pasta.
Funny thing, he called me last week.
“We need to do lunch again,” he said.
“Definitely! How you feeling?”
“Fit as a fiddle.”
So, we had time.
You always think there’s more time...
...he got a little fluid on his lungs...
...went in for a checkout.
Got a clean bill of health.
Was scheduled to check out at noon.
At 11:00 he went to the bathroom...
...got dizzy...
...fell.
His head hit the sink.
He died right there.
64 years old...
...worked for 50 years.
Another grandkid on the way in July.
R.I.P. to Guy Lattanzio.
My next dish of pasta will be sad,
Cause you were supposed to be across the way.
Good man...
...too soon.
(One of those immigrants who came here and busted his ass and was proud to be an American).
Nice long Italian last name.
He actually spoke broken English because he was an off-the-boat Italian guy.
We hit it off because we talked homemade sausage and about twenty different sauces that we made for our families.
He was also a good worker...
...and didn’t ever want an OSHA violation or an injured worker.
He called me every week.
I helped him a lot.
In 2010, he called with some bad news.
“I have leukemia,” he said. He was about 55 when they broke the news. Kids, grandkids and a wife.
“Damn!”
“I’m good,” he said. “They caught it early. I’ll be good as new.”
And he was.
We had lunch in 2016. He looked great. Back to work. We had a bowl of pasta.
Funny thing, he called me last week.
“We need to do lunch again,” he said.
“Definitely! How you feeling?”
“Fit as a fiddle.”
So, we had time.
You always think there’s more time...
...he got a little fluid on his lungs...
...went in for a checkout.
Got a clean bill of health.
Was scheduled to check out at noon.
At 11:00 he went to the bathroom...
...got dizzy...
...fell.
His head hit the sink.
He died right there.
64 years old...
...worked for 50 years.
Another grandkid on the way in July.
R.I.P. to Guy Lattanzio.
My next dish of pasta will be sad,
Cause you were supposed to be across the way.
Good man...
...too soon.
(One of those immigrants who came here and busted his ass and was proud to be an American).
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