I sadly I don’t have a photograph on this computer to post to this piece, but today I wanted to write about my Papa.
I’m currently working on a project for my sister and gathering clips from family. Many of these videos show my Papa playing with her. My mother’s side of the family were Italian/Sicilian rooted. Typically I don’t think fondly of family gatherings, but I always remember times spent with Papa. Today is his birthday, and I wanted to remember him today.
Though I was very young, I always have thoughts of my Papa as a true man. Hard working, serious, but gentle. As most Italian families knows, Italians can be a crazy bunch (good and bad), so of course my Papa was a man you wouldn’t want to cross. But his heart was filled with so much love and protection for his family.
And don’t get me started on his pasta! To this day still there is no spaghetti and meatball meal that compares to his. No matter what holiday; we were having pasta! Maybe that’s why I don’t really care for Turkey. I didn’t even think of it until now… But I’ll be spending this Thanksgiving alone, and I’ve had a strong thought to just cook pasta for myself on Thursday. Hm.. Maybe my Papa wants me to know that in spirit he will be spending the holiday with me?
I wish that my Papa was still here to talk with me about this life I’m living. Now that I am older I crave those kinds of adult conversations with the ones I admired as a toddler. I would love to hold his hand and say, ‘Papa, I’ve finally learned to live my own life. I might not make everyone proud, but I’ll be proud of myself. I know you’ll be proud of me.’
I love you Papa. Thank you for the beautiful memories I can hold onto. Thank you for being a man so many people could respect. Happy birthday.