I grew up in a close Italian-American family. There was an overabundance of food, laughter, and animated conversation. Hospitality was valued, and our door was always open. Everyone was welcome and treated as a member of the family. Guests left with full stomachs, and I’d like to think, full hearts.
I especially loved visiting my grandparents and I was blessed that they lived long enough to welcome their first great-grandchild, my oldest daughter.
“Visit with me,” my grandmother would say, patting the space on the couch next to her. We’d sit together sharing our day, while I nibbled at the treat at hand.
This blog is a snapshot of my daily life. While some things seem to be changing at a fast clip, there’s consistency in family values of love, acceptance, gratitude, the feeling that there’s always enough to share – and an almost maniacal desire to…
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