Of Growing Up Italian

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Of Growing up Italian A person’s power to remember things is the brain’s most important function. A memory requires a process, a process which will later than become a great or not so great recollection story piece. There is short-term and long-term memory; I have many stories to tell about growing up Italian. Growing up Italian has shaped and molded the person who I am today in three major ways: I was taught the value of family, respecting elders and authority and my faith. I was born into this world July 7th, 1995, I didn’t get to choose the family I’d be put into, but I can now say I was put into the best possible family. My first memory of growing up was on a Sunday Afternoon, it happened to also have been my 4th birthday. If you’re Italian, you will definitely know what Sunday lunch is at Nonna’s house and if you’re Italian you know that birthdays are important. I guess this is why I remember this day quite well. Walking into Nonna’s house smelling homemade sugo(pasta sauce) being dumped onto the fresh pasta she had probably made that very day was the best! On the table was chicken cutlets, salad, rapine, and so many other dishes along with tutto la familia(The whole family) I remember having to kiss everyone two times on the cheek, I didn’t understand this then but as I got older, I realised the importance of the kissing on the cheeks. After a big lunch, my Zio Stefano brought out a cake and everyone sang to me, they brought me gifts and I hold dear to me the gift I received from my mother. She had given me a necklace that was my great grandmothers. At that moment I didn’t care for it until I later learned that it was a necklace passed down from generation to generation. As the years went on, I understood that family was important, I appreciated family even more and learned that your family will be there for you no matter what. Secondly, Growing up

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