As I sit around on Christmas Day with Kim, my mum and her partner, and my dad and his partner, I listen to the men sharing stories from their youth. It gets me thinking that us young folk tend to discuss issues and plans for the future rather than spend time sharing stories of old and reminiscing about the past. I enjoy hearing these stories and learning piece by piece more about my family.
Dad is passionately telling us a story about the son of the Italian Ambassador who came off his bike and cracked his head on the curbing, which my grandfather proceeded to try and mend (his head, not the curbing). This then lead to my father's family being invited to dine at the Ambassador house, and my dad eating the best pasta he has ever had in his life (story is 50 years old).
The men tell stories and the women listen. I am reminded of what a great storyteller my dad is, and why don't I make more time in my busy life to sit down and listen to these tales. Kim comments that she is surprised and pleased that the T.V. has not been on all day. We have talked, listened, eaten, and drank for 9 hours - this is the good stuff.
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