My father, the old man
'My parents decided to speak to me in French and Italian, not in my mother’s native Spanish. My mum hadn’t had a happy childhood, so she rarely talked about it. Dad, on the other hand, talked about his childhood a lot and I often think I can hear his voice when I’m in my parents’ kitchen even. He made Italian peasant soup and told me stories from a different era, mainly Rome in the 1920s'.
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