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I walked slowly on the way back from the cemetery with Agostino, my great-grandfather’s nephew, and my dad.  Perhaps it’s the music I’m listening to now that makes me feel nostalgic, but I would give anything to go back to that day.  How to adequately sum up the walk?  It was a cool yet sunny day, a little windy but not too much, and it’s amazing how you can understand each other without speaking the same language.  Although I know my dad was pretty much lost when it came to the language aspect, he was genuinely interested in the conversation though he couldn’t understand a thing.  And it was wonderful, walking back to the house, all three of us laughing.  Agostino talked about the immigrants coming over from Africa through il mare Adriatico and then recounted a story.  One day, he was out tending to his olive trees, and it was rather windy.  He didn’t notice but every time there was a big gust of wind, his car would move slightly.  When he went back up to the house, his car was clear across the driveway.  So funny!  (taken 26.12.2014)

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