Her presence lingers on: after several very appropriate or in-your-face replies to sentences pronounced, I finally started noting what for lack of better words, I will call Miss Bettyisms.
Discussing the dishes proposed on one of the menus during our stay in Paris, we asked what she wanted that day.“I don’t care as long as it gets in my mouth.”
Speaking of other things, perhaps about why she didn’t remember something from her life a couple of month’s ago: “Why waste my memory energy on things I don’t care two hoots about”?
After a long morning, a late and copious lunch, I asked “Want to have a nap after lunch?” Miss Betty replied “what for”?
Passing the Opera House in Paris that last morning I asked her “Would you like to sing us an aria?” She replied “no… uhmm yes, but you wouldn’t want to listen”.
Dear Miss Betty, I could listen to you many an hour – I’ll miss your quick repartee and wit.