Epitaph

My paternal grandmother died yesterday. We've been calling her nanna Cettina for as long as I can remember. She was 92 and the most vigorous person I've ever known. She was conscious to the last and I'm glad that I got to see her only days before she passed away.

There are two lovely childhood memories I forgot to mention in my previous post:

nanna Cettina making home-made ravioli filled with ricotta, just for me;

the way she always said she liked having me at her home when I was a little girl, because I didn't make a fuss and was always quiet and good company.

You were good company for me, too.

I love you nanna.

Favourite childhood memories

There are so many of these but some stand out more than others. Let's see...

Going to the beach with my grandfather...just me and him. He would watch me from the beach and let me swim to my heart's content. It was hard for me to explain I wanted to go with my friends when I was a teen, but he didn't need any explanation. I love you grandpa.

Playing at just about anything with my younger sister and my cousin at my grandma's house. We would use all her pasta to play house with. When she finally got to cook the pasta, it was always mixed LOL.

Playing 'tent' with my younger sister.

Looking for crabs with another of my cousins on lovely afternoons at the beach with my aunt.

Going out with the whole family and my very own uncle Sam. I truly loved him. We all did, but he passed away too soon.

Reading fairy-tales...oh, how I loved it. And not just the classic ones. All I ever got for my birthdays were books from my aunts and uncles because they knew how much I adored them. One of my fondest memories is of a family of mice living in a shoe with their tiny furniture and clothes :-).

Thinking little people lived inside a radio . I was very young here LOL.

Mum making us fries at home and putting them in a paper bag, as if we'd bought them from the take-away.

The film 'Grease' :-)

Roots

Roots. They form us, mould us into what we become as teenagers, grownups, adults. No matter how much we run from them, they always catch up. And that's not always a bad thing. In fact it can be good to realize how much of one's family one carries around. The place where I was born, the house I grew up in, the streets, the nooks and crannies, the scenery, the people, the mentality, the culture, the good side and the not so good side...they all add up to mix with the essence of me and make me who I am.

A person proud of her roots.