I have a recurring dream that tends to wake me up out of a sound sleep. In the dream, I'm riding a bike on 14th Street, the street where I grew up. I'm about 10 or 11 years old, and flying down the road, going like a bat out of hell.
There's another kid on a bike in front of me, even faster.
From one Italian American family to another, our loved ones are always with us. Here's a touching tribute retold here.
A thousand thank you’s. To see this content on your blog is almost overwhelming to me. I appreciate it!
Promoting the Italian American heritage is all the thanks I need. It was my pleasure. The story is so touching. My family has a Big Tony, Little Tony, and a Little Anthony on one side of the family and a Bob, Bobby and Little Bobby on the other side. I love sharing the stories, especially because all the “Bigs” and “Littles” are the same size now… the next generation needs to hear these stories to keep the memories alive. Thanks for sharing.