70/366: Gina

Vince’s youngest was constantly in trouble as a teenager—skipping school, running away. When she came out at age 16, no one took her seriously, but I did. I love her for her humor, her laugh like her mother’s, her courage in insisting on living her own life in her own way.

I have so many stories about my cousins that it’s hard to write just one entry for each of them. I can’t let Gina go by without passing on this bit of family lore: When she was in high school, she’d stop by Nana’s house every day for lunch. So, whenever we were out with Nana, she wouldn’t let us throw any of our food away. She’d insist that we take everything home, because it could be “Gina’s lunch.” She’d make us wrap up extra rolls, leftover sandwiches, even sausages, and she’d put them in her purse—or worse, make us put them in ours. To this day, my sister and I still joke about leftovers at restaurant meals: “Don’t throw that away! That’s Gina’s lunch!” Someday we’ll have to send Gina all the leftovers we’ve amassed over the years...