Play Ball

It was family vs. family in a softball game at a recent family reunion. Here's Uta playing outfield with his Uncle J. The party gathered together all the living descendants stemming from Uta's great great grandmother, Faustina Rivalsi, my mother's mother's mother. I'm not sure what traits Uta has carried forward from his Italian roots, maybe his evil eye, or insane love of garlic. I wonder does he have his great great grandma's hands? Or maybe a similar expression when he's sad? Faustina died the year I was born, so I can not say. But it was wonderful to reconnect with family still living. We are all steadily drifting farther and farther apart, a trend that can't be helped. But it feels like a crime when listening to our uncles and aunts reminisce of their childhoods tightly revolving around close knit families, food, and home. There were many people I had never met before, and some I hadn't seen in thirty plus years. I don't even feel old enough to say such a thing, but its true. I'm determined to learn to roll my own gnocchi and bake panettone in a coffee can, just like my great grandma did. But mostly I'm inspired to make some new family memories, ones that Uta will cherish the telling of when he is old enough to look back.