This Sunday we went to church.
We try to go regularly to the St Jude Catholic Church.
Mom wanted us to get some holy water for the house.
Mass had ended as we reached and everyone was leaving.
We decided to take a few moments to pray.
As I stood up after my prayers, Kunal was talking to an elderly person.
He asked, 'What's your name?' to which my husband replied, 'Kunal'.
The old gentleman said 'My name is Francesco Umberto Petrarca.
These days everyone gives their first name as if they don't have a father.
IfI did not tell you my father's name, he would take his giant bat and hit me.
' Seeing this 80-something talk about his father as if he were a little boy was a little baffling.
Francesco went on.
'My father was a quiet man and my sister and mother would keep troubling him.
He would have his 3 glasses of wine and relax on the dinner table.
The wine was kept in the wine cellar downstairs.
My mother would be very angry if he drank more than 3 glasses.
He would just shrug them off and ignore them.
He would say, "Leave me alone".
Little did they know that he had a small glass in the cellar and every time he went down to fill his glass, there was always an extra glass waiting for him.
' My mind painted a picture of an old Italian home with a fireplace and a cold wine cellar underground.
'He had a big bat.
Every time I was naughty, he would hit me with it and I would run away'.
As I stood there listening to Francesco, a shiver ran down my spine.
At 80 years of age, his father has obviously passed.
He was wearing his Sunday best to church and always did.
We were strangers and yet there he was telling us stories from his fond childhood memories.
In his heart, he was an obedient son who always gave his name with his father's name and last name.
Unlike the modern kids today.
Father Bill walked by and introduced him as 'A pillar of the church'.
For me, he was just a son who loved his father so dearly after all these years.
A son who cherished his family every day.
Kunal & I walked out and saw our parents.
A smile lit my face.
I was happier to see my Papa, more than ever before.
All these years had made him a little older, a little more plump and yet, it was the same kind face that made me feel secure.
The same smile that had made my childhood so bright.
He was right here by my side supporting me through everything.
In that moment, I treasured his presence even more than ever before.
Maybe the next time someone asked, I too would give my full name.
We try to go regularly to the St Jude Catholic Church.
Mom wanted us to get some holy water for the house.
Mass had ended as we reached and everyone was leaving.
We decided to take a few moments to pray.
As I stood up after my prayers, Kunal was talking to an elderly person.
He asked, 'What's your name?' to which my husband replied, 'Kunal'.
The old gentleman said 'My name is Francesco Umberto Petrarca.
These days everyone gives their first name as if they don't have a father.
IfI did not tell you my father's name, he would take his giant bat and hit me.
' Seeing this 80-something talk about his father as if he were a little boy was a little baffling.
Francesco went on.
'My father was a quiet man and my sister and mother would keep troubling him.
He would have his 3 glasses of wine and relax on the dinner table.
The wine was kept in the wine cellar downstairs.
My mother would be very angry if he drank more than 3 glasses.
He would just shrug them off and ignore them.
He would say, "Leave me alone".
Little did they know that he had a small glass in the cellar and every time he went down to fill his glass, there was always an extra glass waiting for him.
' My mind painted a picture of an old Italian home with a fireplace and a cold wine cellar underground.
'He had a big bat.
Every time I was naughty, he would hit me with it and I would run away'.
As I stood there listening to Francesco, a shiver ran down my spine.
At 80 years of age, his father has obviously passed.
He was wearing his Sunday best to church and always did.
We were strangers and yet there he was telling us stories from his fond childhood memories.
In his heart, he was an obedient son who always gave his name with his father's name and last name.
Unlike the modern kids today.
Father Bill walked by and introduced him as 'A pillar of the church'.
For me, he was just a son who loved his father so dearly after all these years.
A son who cherished his family every day.
Kunal & I walked out and saw our parents.
A smile lit my face.
I was happier to see my Papa, more than ever before.
All these years had made him a little older, a little more plump and yet, it was the same kind face that made me feel secure.
The same smile that had made my childhood so bright.
He was right here by my side supporting me through everything.
In that moment, I treasured his presence even more than ever before.
Maybe the next time someone asked, I too would give my full name.
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