Home and Such.

To be brief about Spain: It was amazing.
There are about 6 billion stories I could share, but half of them are too long to type out and the other half are not internet appropriate, so I shall refrain. But it was amazing, as Europe usually is.

I'm currently in New York for the Easter Weekend. Mom came up to visit me in Boston, and we spent a lovely time eating and shopping, and brought back the amazing Tartfulo cheese to have before dinner. The best part of dinner was after, while Mom and I were sharing a bottle of Malbec, that we got to the topic of Grandparents.
I am not lucky enough to have either set of Grandparents around anymore, something I wish were different. I never had the privelage of meeting my dad's parents, but my mother's parents were always around growing up.  I wish with all my heart that they were still around now. After being in Italy, and just...getting older..I find myself craving stories of what their lives were like, or what their parents lives were like in Sicily...how they got here, WHY no one was EVER TAUGHT ITALIAN. I feel like now as a 22 year old, I could appreciate what they would have to share with me SO much more than when I was 10 or 15...it sucks thats how that always seems to work.
Mom told me as many stories as she knew, which was great. I loved hearing about my great gma living to be 100, but so deaf that she'd get fed up at the holiday dinner table and in her heavy italian accented English, throw her hands up with a "Bah" and leave the table, forcing you to come to her to hear her stories. I love it. I imagine this little old italian lady, with a big braided, white bun on her head, wearing a flowered dress coat and cloggy shoes, ambling around a kitchen cooking feasts anytime someone walked in the door...as this is how my mom painted the picture. Who wouldn't want to meet her?