The beginning of my day yesterday played out like some cliché' family movie. I played the part of the estranged relative. I awoke, dressed and perfected the "I really care what I look like and put hours into my appearance, because I haven’t seen all of you for fifteen years, although I may appear to be nonchalant" look.
I took a short stroll down a picturesque street toward my Nonnas house, walked through the gate which sounds like a hippopotamus is being murdered whenever you open it and made my way to sit on the couch. I waited pensively for our ride to appear and suddenly my great uncle arrives in his Holden Commodore Wagon, nice I think, a comfortable way to travel. Nonna and I grab our picnic lunch (loaded with all the woginess you can imagine, salami, ham, mortadella, cheese, olives, crusty ciabatta, tomatoes and more) and gracefully take our seats in the car. On the way, we pick up my uncle as well as my brother, who is undoubtedly is hung over, looking like a vagabond in his hard yakka shorts and two dollar carrara market sunnies.
Fifteen minutes later we arrive at my uncles house. There is a mini-bus waiting out the front. OH MY WORD. We pile into the mini-bus, along with three-second cousins, their husbands/partners, their kids, great uncle and aunty, uncle, nonna, brother and myself. This will be one fun trip. One and a half hours later, one litre of water and no IPOD (I didn't want to be anti-social you see) we arrive at our destination. A luscious green park, complete with rotunda, BBQ's that require a dollar to fire up, playground and bathrooms with stainless steel toilets, not to mention a plethora of relatives.
I am greeted by kisses (one on each cheek, in European tradition of course) and hugs galore. Getting pushed about from introduction to introduction, from relative to relative, most of who I haven’t seen since I was 6 and was the proud owner of a monobrow. This is my Dad's family, more specifically my Nonnas four brothers and sisters (the 5th one lives in New Jersey, complete with a bronx accent) their kids, their grand kinds and great grand kids. And what a GRAND occasion it really was.
Although the day did feel some what surreal and movieistic (made up word my friends), being around family I haven’t seen since I was practically still in huggies and still being welcomed with open arms really confirmed something for me. That is, the importance of family.
Certainly my family isn't perfect and is completely dysfunctional (what family isn't? show me a functional family and I'll show you my pet unicorn), but where would we be without them?? Not alive at least. That's one thing we can each be grateful for - life. But what about those precious memories? For me, it's hearing my mums knee click whenever she gets up in the middle of the night for a glass of water. Or my dad eating half of my bubble'o'bill in one bite, to make sure its not poisoned. Even my brother paying me out, because I know beneath the facade he would die for me.
Family.
Don't forget its significance or underestimate its value.
I took a short stroll down a picturesque street toward my Nonnas house, walked through the gate which sounds like a hippopotamus is being murdered whenever you open it and made my way to sit on the couch. I waited pensively for our ride to appear and suddenly my great uncle arrives in his Holden Commodore Wagon, nice I think, a comfortable way to travel. Nonna and I grab our picnic lunch (loaded with all the woginess you can imagine, salami, ham, mortadella, cheese, olives, crusty ciabatta, tomatoes and more) and gracefully take our seats in the car. On the way, we pick up my uncle as well as my brother, who is undoubtedly is hung over, looking like a vagabond in his hard yakka shorts and two dollar carrara market sunnies.
Fifteen minutes later we arrive at my uncles house. There is a mini-bus waiting out the front. OH MY WORD. We pile into the mini-bus, along with three-second cousins, their husbands/partners, their kids, great uncle and aunty, uncle, nonna, brother and myself. This will be one fun trip. One and a half hours later, one litre of water and no IPOD (I didn't want to be anti-social you see) we arrive at our destination. A luscious green park, complete with rotunda, BBQ's that require a dollar to fire up, playground and bathrooms with stainless steel toilets, not to mention a plethora of relatives.
I am greeted by kisses (one on each cheek, in European tradition of course) and hugs galore. Getting pushed about from introduction to introduction, from relative to relative, most of who I haven’t seen since I was 6 and was the proud owner of a monobrow. This is my Dad's family, more specifically my Nonnas four brothers and sisters (the 5th one lives in New Jersey, complete with a bronx accent) their kids, their grand kinds and great grand kids. And what a GRAND occasion it really was.
Although the day did feel some what surreal and movieistic (made up word my friends), being around family I haven’t seen since I was practically still in huggies and still being welcomed with open arms really confirmed something for me. That is, the importance of family.
Certainly my family isn't perfect and is completely dysfunctional (what family isn't? show me a functional family and I'll show you my pet unicorn), but where would we be without them?? Not alive at least. That's one thing we can each be grateful for - life. But what about those precious memories? For me, it's hearing my mums knee click whenever she gets up in the middle of the night for a glass of water. Or my dad eating half of my bubble'o'bill in one bite, to make sure its not poisoned. Even my brother paying me out, because I know beneath the facade he would die for me.
Family.
Don't forget its significance or underestimate its value.
