Andrea

An hour before Aunt Olive would pass, I received word that my friend Andrea passed away in Fargo. She was a grand dame of a different sort than Olive. Andrea called me two weeks ago to say good bye. She was in hospice. "I have to ask you not to call," she said, "and don't, whatever, you do, send flowers!" 

That was Andrea. The article, which I suspect she wrote, at least in part, gives a picture of her. For the past 10 or so years, she has brought a fabulous meal to the nursery employees once per spring. Before that, I had many chances to eat at her table. Invitations to eat Andrea's food were rare and coveted in Fargo, and she so meticulously planned each meal that if somebody canceled, she would have to have somebody take their place. At least twice, I filled in at the last minute and met some fascinating people of eminence in some field or another.