We Are What We Were

I love heritage. In a sense, I think it connects us to future generations in a way that, deep in the bones, feels like we're leaving something meaningful behind. Otherwise, why would we so fiercely cling to our Italian foods, our Irish festivals, our German ... stubbornness!

So anyhow, for years I've been telling my kids about my Irish, Italian, German, English, Scottish heritage. And for years, they – with goading from my lovely wife – have laughed uproariously at what they believe is a thinly-veiled attempt on my part to find any excuse for a party. So when my son Phil, who is now trotting across my European ancestral homelands, wrote me about his visit to Italy, I replied with reference to my family.

And here's how it went: